Wait, you want us to go with you where?
by The Impala has my fez
Summary: Cole and Kat are Hetalia fangirls, and when England and Canada show up in their house and tell them they have to go the Hetalia universe to help with WW2, they have to make a life changing decision. Will they give up their lives to go into an anime? Rated T for language. Might be changed to M later. Reviews are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter one of the rewrite! I hope you guys like it, I worked a lot to get this out to you so quickly. If it's not too much trouble, would you be able to comment what you think of it? I'm not sure, I do like it quite a bit more than the last draft, that's for sure. Meh, you're the consumer, let me know if you like it or not!**

 ***hugs all of the readers* (unless, of course, you don't like hugs. In that case, no hugs.)**

My sharp violet eyes scanned the FanFiction page I was reading, it was a common Mary Sue fic, featuring everyone's favorite anime, Hetalia. (Or as Japan would say, useless Italy.)

It was about some girl who was stuck in the Hetalia universe, but she ended up dying, and the countries were left to realize how much they depended on her. It was interesting, but the last few chapters I read were boring and uneventful, if not unrealistic. I mean, countries don't have complete breakdowns and lose their status of a country because of a teenager that has little to no impact realistically on them in real life!

Of course, Fanfiction isn't real life, and anything can happen in the writer's universe.

With a small and tired sigh, I tapped the red button in the corner of Chrome, effectively closing the browser. It was late, and I need to sleep. Putting the laptop out of my reach was easy enough, all I had to do was slide it across my king sized bed, near the edge, just not far enough to fall off. I tend to stay in one place as I sleep, or lightly shift. I'm in no way a dramatic sleeper like other people I met are.

The lights in my room had been turned off hours ago by my mom when she checked on me. She's lenient, and gives me a lot of room to do what I want. I'm not very rebellious, and I like to have my space, so it worked out fine. When my parents wanted to know something about me, I would answer their questions and they would leave me be.

Less stress for them, and no overprotective parents for me. Win-win.

I snuggled my face closer into my soft, incredibly comfortable pillow in an attempt to get myself to fall asleep. Within minutes, I felt the familiar tug of sleep latch onto my mind, bringing me closer to the coma-like sleep I needed.

"Cole, wake up. Your dad prepared breakfast, and I'm pretty sure you slept through your alarm. Kat needs to be picked up, doesn't she?" My mom's soft voice rang through my grey and white walled room, startling me awake.

In the mornings, I was cranky, tired, and usually a very ill-tempered person. This morning is no different. "Go away, I'm tired." A rough, drowsy noise was what made itself out of my mouth, rather than my usually normal, (common), teenage girl's voice.

I could practically feel my mom smiling from across the room, exhausted as I was. When everything was silent for a moment, my sleep-addled mind took it as an okay to drift off again. Oh my was it wrong.

"Pancakes." My heart nearly jumped in my throat, not just from sudden anxiety, but because pancakes were my all-time favorite food. Like, I will assassinate someone if you pay me in pancakes.

My head shot up on its own accord, even though my eyes were still closed. "Pancakes? You're not lying?" I sniffed the air to ensure that my mother wasn't bribing me with non-existent goods, and sure enough, the heavenly scent of flapjacks was hanging in the chilly air of my house.

"I'll be downstairs in a couple of minutes." My mom turned out of the room with a knowing smirk, leaving me alone to change and complete my morning routine. I threw off the black sheets that had done me a great service by keeping me warm all of last night in favor of the treat that lay in the near future: pancakes.

I swear, I have never dressed or gotten ready as quickly as I did now. It was like I was an unpredictable whirlwind, going from my huge walk in closet to my bathroom in three seconds flat. Of course, pulling jeans up your legs while hopping to the sink isn't the best way to get ready, (and an impossible to see through black Sherlock t-shirt over your head) but it's the method I chose this morning.

My makeup was foundation, eyebrows, mascara, and brown lipstick. I didn't have enough time to pick at my eye color, hair, or acne prone skin, since time was so tight. I tied my black, waist length black hair with silver fringe into a high ponytail as quickly as I could, resulting in a messy knot on top of my head, but at the moment I couldn't care less.

I threw socks and black Converse on, barely giving myself time to tie my shoes before heading back to my sink to brush my teeth and get rid of the terrible taste in my mouth.

When I was done, I jumped to my office, grabbing my phone and school bag, along with my glasses that helped hide my eye color before running out the door and down the stairs. The closer I got to the kitchen, the stronger the smell of maple syrup and coffee became, the more pleasant pancakes seemingly now odorless.

Backpack sling over my shoulder, cell phone crammed into my jean's pocket and black nerdy glasses set over my nose, I was ready to take on the world. Just as soon as I drank my daily tea and ate breakfast.

My dad was in front of the stove, casually flipping eggs, most likely for my mom. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and house slippers. His short brown-blonde hair was combed to be slightly flat, but the look suited him. "Guten Morgen! Where's my food?" Without a word, he pointed to the wooden dining table behind my mom.

(Translation: German. Guten Morgen means Good morning.)

My mother was beautiful, with lightly tanned skin and short dark brown hair. It barely touched her shoulder, while her light blonde highlights complemented her skin perfectly. She was wearing a grey blouse with bright neon green stripes, black business pants, and white flats. Her hazel eyes flickered over to me in recognition as I sat down in front of a plate stacked to high heaven with one of my favorite foods.

"Honey, you have five minutes before you have to leave." Her voice was a tad urgent, and had every right to be. I was the sole person that could take my best friend of three years plus to school, so she depended on me.

"Shit, then can you make a coffee for Kat and an Earl Grey for me? Lightly sweetened?" I spoke as I reached across the oak table for the maple syrup. And not the fake stuff, the real imported from Canada stuff. Why the hell would you call corn syrup and artificial flavorings maple syrup? It was an abomination that deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth.

I drowned my pancakes in the syrup, roughly a stack of fifteen. You might think it's excessive, but I eat a ton and I can never gain much weight. It might be because I work out, but I guess I'll never know, because I don't plan on giving up the lifestyle I already have.

"Already on the counter. Three spoons of sugar per cup, and a dab of milk in the tea, right?" Kat liked her coffee black with light sweetener, and I like a good old British cup of tea. I'm 100% American in origin, even being able to trace back my parent's genealogy to the colonies. Notice I said my parent's genealogy. I honestly believe that I'm adopted; I look nothing like my parents.

I have black hair with red undertones, pale skin, and violet eyes. Yeah, purple eyes, naturally. People from all different backgrounds have called me a freak, monster, and demon. We used to go to a church a few miles from us, used to being the key component.

The lead pastor went to my parents and tried to get them to exorcise me. Not joking. So yeah, I look different, and besides the fact that my mom once made me watch my birth, (I'm still traumatized), I honestly don't believe that I'm genetically related to the two people that raised me.

"Thanks." My gratefulness was muffled, my face stuffed full of God sent flatbread, now dripping with maple syrup. A small stream of syrup tried to make its way down from the corner of my mouth, but I quickly licked it so it wouldn't ruin my foundation. I would probably have to reapply my lipstick in my car while I wait for Kat, but it's totally worth it.

Since I inhaled my breakfast, I finished with one minute to spare. I'm pretty lucky, aren't I?

"Leave your plate here, I'll get it for you. Just hurry, will you?" My mom was already picking up my plate, wiping away like only a mother, or Germany, would at the mess I created while I ate. I smiled at my mom before giving a small one armed hug to my dad. "Bye guys, I love you!"

In one swift move, I grabbed both coffee cups, one labeled Cole, the other with a picture of a kitten on it, and the Toyota keys hung on the wall above them. My drink smelled amazing, the caffeinated Earl Grey tea picking me up with just a glance at the warm H2O mixture. The coffee in my other hand revolted me, I hate any shape or form of coffee. Tea all the way for this fangirl. Sorry.

I ran as quickly as I could to my car without spilling anything, and trying to balance my backpack which was hanging off my shoulder with only one strap. A bit of black liquid, most likely the coffee, still managed to burn a small portion of my hand, but I continued onwards, ignoring the stinging pain between my thumb and my pointer finger.

When I loaded up my backpack in the backseat, still within reach from the driver's seat, I slid the key into the ignition of my silver Toyota Camry. My parents bought it for my sixteenth birthday, to which I really appreciate.

The garage was crowded, but with skilled driving I learned from my dad, I was able to make it through without a scratch on my barely a year old car. I followed the roads I knew well from driving down them almost every day until I pulled into a beat up neighborhood.

Two rights, one left. Go straight until I see a white house, ivy leaves growing on the side and curling onto the roof. Probably a fire hazard, but what will Kat's mom do about it? Jack shit. Her dad left her mom when she was seven. It was an ugly divorce, and Kat's mom ended up winning custody of Kat and her older douchebag brother, Alec.

Even his name sounds assholeish, right?

Since then, Kat's life has been living hell, so I'm glad to help however I possibly can.

The tea with a dash of milk and sugar next to me called my name, asking to be consumed, (figuratively), so being the wonderful human I am, I naturally complied. I was halfway finished with my cup when the light brown front door of my best friend's house was thrown open so hard I'm surprised that the forty year old house didn't crumble then and there.

The force that an obviously upset Kat slammed the door shut did in fact shake the house a bit, which was more satisfying than I care to admit. (I really hate that she lives in such a crappy neighborhood, it's like the fucking ghetto.)

Her shoulder length blonde hair whipped around in the air as she rushed to my car, but this time carefully opening it. She knows that I'll throw a fit if anything happened to my car. While it's true my parents got it for me, I convinced them to let me pay the payment with the car dealership. I like to work for my stuff.

"She kicked me out. I have to get out by Friday." Kat didn't even seem remorseful, just angry. Yep, that's my best friend right there. If you ever see her crying, run as far and as quickly as your legs can physically carry you, because there is definitely something wrong.

"But that's only three days, today's Tuesday." My dark brows furrowed in confusion. And why was Kat kicked out? I mean, I figured that it would happen one day, that's why I created a room for my friend in secret, it just surprises me that it was so soon.

"Okay, can you handle the school day, or do you want to go to my place?" I didn't press the subject, if she wanted to talk about it, she would. Kat seemed to release some tension, since her shoulders sagged. It wasn't a defeated sagging, just like she was more relaxed.

"School. I need something to keep my mind off of this, it's too much to take in all at once." And so the queen spoke. I carefully pulled my way out of the crappy neighborhood that my best friend won't be living in for much longer and headed off to our school building.

When we were at a stoplight, I checked my makeup, namely lipstick, in the car mirror. Just like I thought it would be, it was fading from the middle, and perfect-ish around the edges. I quickly redid it, and just in time, too, since the car behind me was so impatient that it almost hit me and ran a red light.

Colorado has such wonderful drivers. *sarcasm*

Kat quietly sipped on her coffee, which seemed to rejuvenate her a bit. She still looked down, though, (who the hell wouldn't?), so I handed her my phone. It was kind of an awkward shuffle to get it from my back pocket without losing my hold on the steering wheel, but I was able to do it.

"Choose. Hetalia or Hamilton." The two things that I am most passionate about at the moment, a musical and an anime. Kat shared both with me, which helped us be our true terrifying selves around each other. Our friendship was really awesome, but I don't know if I'm saying that because I haven't had that many friends before Kat, or if we really were just an awesome pair.

She turned on the phone screen of my Note 3 with a small shrug. "I guess both. Hetalia first, though." Kat quickly tapped in my phone's lock screen password, which she knew by heart. I wasn't going to change it, and we both knew each other's passwords to our phones, so it wasn't rare to see her using my phone instead of the one I bought her.

"Dude, I bought you a brand new IPhone six. For the love of Doitsu, use it. I've only been seeing you on my phone for quite a bit now." I kept my eyes trained to the road as I figured Kat was hooking my phone up to my car using my aux cord. Russia's character song, White Flame, a seventeen minute song, started playing, loud enough to hear and just barely make out the words.

Kat was quiet, almost… ashamed? "My mom shattered the screen, I can't use it anymore." What? Her mom shattered the phone that I bought? Did anyone stand up for her? When did this happen? Was she hurt?

"I'll take you after school to fix it. How did she shatter it?" I spared a quick glance to see Kat scrolling through my saved YouTube videos, probably looking for another Hetalia song she likes. Traffic was bad in this part of town, so I went slower, allowing me to make eye contact with her every once and a while.

"Last week. She got mad, tried to throw it at my head. She missed." With another fast look to my right, I noticed Kat was purposely avoiding my gaze. Anger pooled in my stomach. I had a perfect life, and my best friend had phones being thrown at her head? It's a good thing she's eighteen in five months, so she can legally be free of the bitch of a mother she has.

"Were you hurt?" If Kat was hurt, I can call the police for child abuse. Unfortunately, her mom is probably too smart to leave any physical damage to her daughter for fear of the authorities, but it would still be nice to sic them on her.

"No. She just left, probably went to a bar. She came home wasted." Her brown eyes flickered to my face briefly, studying my reaction before going back to the phone. Kat's tone of voice in particular pissed me off. She sounded so nonchalant, like it didn't matter to her what happened.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. "How the hell do you act like it's no big deal? Do you realize you could have been seriously hurt?"

"Yeah, but there's no use in moaning about it. I might as well look at the bright side, I'm still alive and okay." Kat brushed off my concern like it didn't bother her. Does she not see the danger in living with an abusive parent?

I clenched my teeth together, but stayed silent. There was maybe two minutes left, at the most, until we made it to school, so there's no use in arguing. Kat would move in with me and get away from her mom either way. She would be safe.

My car pulled into the reserved student parking at my local high school. I pulled the key out of the ignition, grabbed my school bag from behind my seat, and pocketed my phone, which involved ripping it out of Kat's hands.

"HEY! Why'd you do that!?"

Kat slammed her door open, backpack slung over her shoulder. I kept walking and ignored her shout of frustration. After a minute, she was just grumbling, so I slowed down until the both of us were shoulder to shoulder.

Here's a few reasons why we walked like this: I have purple eyes, black hair, and pale skin. I'm also smart, (which I don't like to let on), so people pick on me.

Kat is made fun of because she hangs out with a 'freak.' So we stick together, even if we're pissed at each other.

The rough pattering of feet, as if someone was running, and the sting of hot asphalt being kicked into my jeans was enough to let me know my tormentors had seen me. I mean, how could they not? I'm the palest girl in school, and the sharp contrast between my skin and hair is enough to make me a walking sign.

It was impossible to ignore my presence, at least when I'm in a room of normal people, where they try to stay as far away from me as possible.

"Hey, freakazoid! What are you doing here? I thought I told you aliens weren't welcome." A scrawny, small pubescent teenager ran to me, trying and failing to keep his huffing to himself. Apparently, bullies can be out of shape. Who knew?

"You should be honored that I graced you with my presence. Most aliens try to stay away from this planet, because of the brutality of people like you." The sarcasm was so strong in my voice, I'll be surprised if the idiot trying to keep up with me doesn't catch up.

"Wow, I didn't realize you thought you were worth something. No one likes you, and the hot chick next to you only hangs out with you because she pities you. Ain't that right, darling?" His Justin Bieber haircut was swept out of place by the wind, causing him to growl in anger and run his thin fingers through it. I guess it's not the first time this morning the wind ruined his douche-looking haircut. Have a haircut like an asshole, you're gonna be an asshole. Simple rules of life, sadly.

"Braint, please leave us alone." I rolled my eyes as we made our way through the school gate and headed off to my first class, calculus.

Kat was usually silent when someone harassed us, and today she continued the year long tradition. She used to be the one that stood up for the two of us, but last year she was attacked by a senior when she spoke, and since then hasn't uttered more than two sentences to defend herself.

Briant, the bully, was about to say something else when the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Saved by the bell, literally.

"Hey, I'll see you in history, mmk?" I nudged Kat's shoulder with my own before I headed off to class. She muttered a quick "bye" before jogging down the ajointed hallway to her first class, science.

I was in advanced classes, the most advanced that my school could offer. While I knew almost everything we were being taught, I stayed for the socialization aspect of high school. My parents had offered to have me moved so many times, I can barely count, but I refused.

Instead, I went to public school, and did separate home schooling courses over the week. Even that was maybe an hour a day and I had just learned a week's worth of lessons from my other school. I absorbed information extremely quickly, and it was rare that my appetite for education was met. I'm a history fanatic, love languages and culture, as well as TV shows and anime.

I'm a classic nerd, just a bit more advanced.

The cold metal of the classroom door handle shocked my outstretched hand as I pushed it open. There was no one in my class yet, or so it seemed, but the sniggering in the back, where my desk was, let me know there was probably another bully in here.

My eyes rolled on their own accord as I trudged through the heavy atmosphere of my high school to the crowd of juvenile delinquents gathered around my work area. Mrs. Newhower didn't seem to be in yet which explains how they got away with whatever they did.

"Dude, she's gonna flip when she sees this!"

"Make sure the teacher doesn't see it though, we might get in trouble."

"Bro, relax. This bitch won't know what hit her."

Ah, high school. The place where the wonders of the English language are left out in the open for any person to learn.

No, I'm kidding. Never repeat what you hear in high school, it's filled with idiots that don't bother to educate themselves about anything. Honestly, I might rethink my decision to stay here.

"Know what?" My eyebrows lifted in amusement. If they were going to bully me, they might as well do it right. The three boys who were talking, huddled around my small space, turned around sharply.

Two of them were scrawny shrimps, and the one in the middle was incredibly well built, and likely to me much stronger than me. Unfortunately, as they turned, they were careful to keep my desk hidden from my view, effectively keeping me from seeing what they had done.

The muscular boy, who was maybe 5' 4", a good few inches smaller than me, tried to look tough and answered in a way that honestly made me want to roll my eyes.

"Nothing, you purple eyed demon!" He had short brown hair, which was mostly covered by a hat, and was wearing typical jersey and basketball shorts. All three boys were wearing the same thing, just different colors. I don't bother to pay attention to the color, my attention was currently focused on the bullies.

"Yeah, you freak! Go back to hell, where you came from!" The even small kid, maybe 5' 1" or 2", shot out at me. It's ridiculous, I'm taller than them, and they still try to make themselves seem tougher?

Without stuttering, I managed a reply that was both equally snarky and witty. "It didn't agree with me, I was kicked out. Apparently even demons can cause too much trouble. Who knew?" I shrugged as I tried to get to my desk.

The tall boy blocked my way, stepping out in front of me so that I couldn't take another step without ramming into him. His two goons followed, trying their best to hold me in place, like a blockade. Luckily, or unluckily, I'm not sure which; I was then able to see my desk perfectly.

It was covered in marker with names that I'd been called all my life. Even the chair was written on.

Things like "freak", "monster", and "ugly". Those didn't bother me as much as "deformed", "mistake", and "horrendous", just to name a few. Sharp pangs of hurt, regret, and sadness tugged at my chest until it was almost impossible to breath. My vision swam as I took in what they had written. Some of them were things that I had never heard before, like "bothersome whore", but not very original.

Most of the insults didn't directly apply to me, it was just random words that would offend someone normally. The three teenagers smirked when they noticed the tears streaming down my face. I couldn't help it, the tight feeling in my chest had to be released and the best way was to cry.

After a few more tears, I lightly wiped my face with the palm of my hand so I didn't mess up my makeup.

"What now, bitch?" The smallest of the three, the one who hadn't spoken up yet, laughed at me. His blonde hair was swept to the side in a way that honestly made me want to cringe. It was so unflattering! Then again, his very existence at this moment is unflattering to his parents.

"I'm not a bitch. Please move out of my way, class is starting soon." I was able to keep my voice from cracking, but the "soon" was more like "soOOon". I sniffled as I tried to get my emotions under control.

"Good morning, class! I hope you finished your homew-. Oh my god! Cole, what happened to your desk!?" I couldn't see Mrs. Newhower, but she was probably at the door.

"Um, nothing. Could you possibly get these juvenile children away from me?" I glared down at the bullies, who were most definitely not in my class. I have never seen them before, now that I think about it.

The biggest of the boys took a step back, giving me more room. His friends followed. All three gave me the dirtiest of looks they possibly could, before walking to the door. Mrs. Newhower hopped in front of them, effectively blocking off the only exit and entrance of the classroom.

"Tsk-tsk. Not so fast boys, you'll be going to the principal's office for harassment and bullying. I know your mothers must be so proud." The sarcasm in her voice was strong, directly aimed at the behavior of the teenagers.

They scowled, but went with the teacher nonetheless. How did she manage to diffuse the situation so damn quickly? That was over in less than five minutes, which has to be a record.

My eyes rolled of their own accord at the absurdness of the situation. Tears still pricked the edges of my vision, but they didn't threaten to spill over, which is a plus, cause I didn't put on waterproof mascara this morning.

"Fucking arseholes, the lot of them." I couldn't help but mutter under my breath as I walked to the cabinet to look for some Lysol wipes to wipe off the writing. I prayed it wasn't in Sharpie, then I would never be able to get the writing off.

The lightly colored cabinets did in fact have a brand new roll of wet wipes, which I grabbed as soon as I laid my eyes on it. The words on my desk ran through my head as I took the few steps necessary to get back to my area. Things like "freak" and "monster" were not new, but they still hurt.

When I scrubbed at the writing, it didn't budge. Most likely Sharpie, then.

"Oh shit, this is ridiculous." A heavy sigh escaped my lips and settled into my bones. I was so tired of being teased and bullied, so why did I insist on attending school every day when I know full well I can graduate right now if I wanted to?

My hands started to hurt from wiping at the desk so hard, to no avail. I eventually stopped in defeat when other teenagers started to pour into the classroom and fill in all the desks next to me. Everyone whispered about my desk, but no one helped.

Welcome to the 21st century, where you whisper shit about others to your friends but never help them out. What a wonderful time to be alive!

I set down the wet wipe on the corner of my desk so I could grab my backpack. My fingers were sore from where I had pressed hard against the cool wood of the desk. It didn't help that my backpack is super heavy, and I never use my locker since it had been destroyed more than once.

The classroom door opened as I had my back turned away from it, leaned over to grab the black straps of my black JanSport.

"Good morning class! Today we'll be working on-." Mrs. Newhower just walked into the room, but I couldn't care less about what she was teaching. Chances are that I already learned it, and calculus was a very easy subject for me.

When I was settled into my now graffiti covered desk, pencils and notebooks out, the teacher came over to me. Her long blonde hair reached to her elbow, curled at the edges and a small braid running from the center of her head down the bottom. She wore a brown, knee length skirt and white blouse, and simple black flats.

I have to say, great outfit choice!

"Cole, you can stay at my desk until I have yours replaced." Her no nonsense tone let me know she wasn't kidding, I had to move. Without a word, I repacked my stuff and slugged it to her desk, where the surface was now cleared and clean.

"Thanks", I grumbled. Mrs. Newhower followed me to make sure that I wouldn't throw a fit, though I'm not sure why she would think I would reject the offer. (More like command…)

"You're welcome. If you want to talk about it, I'm always open." My teacher's gentle smile showed she really did care, even if no one else did. It honestly touched me, no other teacher had ever even talked to me more than required.

"Thanks, I really mean it." The corners of my lips turned upwards in gratitude.

I could feel the class' eyes on us, silently judging and making assumptions. I can only imagine the things running through their messed up and deluded minds. I wouldn't be surprised to hear around lunch time that they thought I wrote all over my desk to get attention.

In fact, I'll bet ten bucks that will actually be a thing. I like to think that I've gotten pretty good at determining the next rumors being set out about me and Kat, simply because she hangs out with me.

Mrs. Newhower started teaching again as I reset all of my school supplies where they would be on my normal sized desk, now on a surface more than double the size. I took advantage of the new found space by filling it with papers and notes, silently copying the notes on the whiteboard.

After a while, I started to get bored, so I doodled little hearts around the corners of my notebook paper. In big lettering I sketched out a fancy "England", complete with little twirls at the curvier parts of the letters.

Yes, I have a crush on England. Sue me. I know he's fictional, but I guess that's what makes him appealing. It doesn't matter where and when I go someplace, it never fails that someone will make a comment about me being different, and when someone and something is fictional, it provides an escape.

I yearned for that escape. I prayed and hoped and wished that I could go someplace where the way I looked was common, and I wasn't different.

Maybe I didn't want to leave, I just wanted the bullying to stop.

I know that by being friends with Kat she's bullied more than she lets on. One time, I think it was a couple of weeks ago, I saw her books being thrown out from under her. When I went to help and asked what happened, she stuttered something out about being "too clumsy for her own good".

Since then, she's been slowly distancing herself from me, and I noticed.

When class was over I headed to history. No one stopped me, and the day went by pretty smoothly. In lunch, people didn't even look at me, but they did snicker whenever I passed by their table. During break, Kat talked with me about the new Hetalia season that I had just bought, asking if she could come over after school and watch it with me.

I, of course, said yes, and mentally planned the rest of the day's events.

After school was over, we headed to my house, the only sound in the car being America's character song, Boot Camp.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**

 **Here you guys go, another chapter! It was so much work, just for a few details it was a good hour to get everything historically accurate. *sighs* Again, if you could review to let me know what you think, and any errors you may have found, that'd be great. Also, I need someone to edit my story, so if anyone is willing to volunteer, that'd be awesome! Kesesesese~!**

I turned two rights, a left, and then I was in front of my house. It was a fairly expensive neighborhood; all the houses were only seven years old. My parents bought the house from a realtor, the last people that had it ended up foreclosing it, so they bought it.

My car pulled into the now open garage, shielding it from the harmful rays of the bright sun. It was still early January, so it was quite chilly outside. Goose bumps erupted all over my skin as the chilly air nipped at my exposed arms, face, and neck.

We walked into the house, weaving out way into the hallway leading into the family room, where my dad was most likely to be. I called out with a slightly irritated voice, "DAD!"

I heard his gruff reply, a low "Yeah?"

"Kat's mom kicked her out. Can she move in here?"

Kat's mouth opened, happiness radiating from her brown eyes. I had suspected something like this would happen eventually, so I had talked to my parents about it a while ago. Both of them had said she could move in whenever, so I had started preparing one of the guest rooms in secret. It had a king bed, a walk in closet, and a huge bathroom. It was bigger than mine, but instead of four rooms in one, there were only three. Kat would get to use my office; I already head two desks in there. The only thing needed was for Kat to get her stuff from her parent's house.

My dad was silent. "DAD?"

His answer came a second later. "Yeah, she can stay. Go later today to get her stuff from the nightmare of a mom she has."

My dad HATED Kat's mom with a passion. I didn't really blame him, I hated her too.

With that, I led Kat to my room, dragging her behind me by her hand. We made it to my room, where I threw open the door hard enough to crack it, (luckily it didn't), and plopped myself down on my bed. My T.V. remote was discarded carelessly on the left side of my king size bed, where Kat was sitting. I motioned for her to give me the remote, which she threw at my head.

"Hey! No need to be so violent!" It just barely missed my hair by less than an inch. I could feel the breeze when it rushed past my head.

Kat giggled and hugged my life size England body pillow. My eyes narrowed. I had a MASSIVE crush on England, and Kat knew this. She was trying to rile me up.

"Kat, if you don't let go of Iggy, I'm not going to give you Canada."

She gasped and dropped Iggy at my feet, and then started bouncing up and down.

"OH MY GOD! Where's Canada? Where? Cole, you better give me my baby!"

I waved my hand in the general direction of my closet. "Go get 'em."

In one fluid movement, Kat had jumped off my bed and ran to my closet. I had put Canada in the corner of the closet against my jeans and dresses. I bought it for her three days ago, but I kept it until she came for a Hetalia marathon. I think today counted.

I heard a loud squeal, and my best friend came running with the plushie under her arm. She was squeezing it so hard, if it was alive, it would have died. She was jumping up and down, yelling about how awesome I was and how much she loved me. (As friends).

When she stopped jumping up and down, she calmly walked to my bed with the anime character held against her, before she let out a loud yell and started laughing manically.

"AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAMUAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH! I HAVE CANADA IN MY CLUTCHES; I AM ONE LUCKY SON OF A BITCH!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Bitch, maybe. Son of a bitch? Not likely considering you have ovaries."

Kat frowned. "My mistake, you're the son of a bitch."

"Asshole. I'm a girl too."

"I thought you said I was a bitch that had ovaries. How can I be an asshole, too?"

An irritated smile wormed it's way onto my face, and I grabbed a pillow and hit Kat in the face with it.

"OW! What the hell, Cole?"

"You. You're the hell."

Kat started ranting about something, but I tuned her out as I put my Hetalia DVDs in my TV. I clicked the English translation, and let season one play. We both stayed quiet as Germany popped up and the screen.

When we had watched both season one through three, Kat started dozing off. I noticed when her head fell on Canada, and small snores came from behind me.

"Kat, we have to go get your stuff. Wake up!" I shook her shoulder until she groggily raised her hand to hit my face. She missed her mark by a few feet, only earning chuckles from me. I decided to pull a Germany and scare her awake. With my best German accent, I quoted the country.

"I once killed a man with his own mustache und a grape."

Kat shot up, eyes alert and scanning the room until her brown orbs landed on me. "Asswipe. I'm tired."

I smiled and hit her shoulder. With my usual enthusiasm, (I didn't really have any unless it involved hurting someone), I dragged her out of my room and downstairs.

When we were halfway down the stairs, Kat stubbornly sat on the steps, rooting herself in place. I decided to have fun and rile her up. I'm a good friend. "Come on, kitty kitty. Meow." She hissed, then groaned and rubbed her eyes. We made it down the rest of the steps, but when we were next to the kitchen, she asked what time it was.

I looked at the clock on the stove before answering. "It's only five." She groaned when we walked to the front door, where sunshine was shining brightly, not taking notice of teenager's foul moods.

"Only in Colorado." I laughed lightly and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. Colorado had more sunshine than people gave it credit for, even in the winter time.

With that, we both slipped on our shoes and headed out the door to go to Kat's nightmare of a house.

When we were in the garage, we both hauled cardboard boxes in my car. I crushed them so they were flat, I could pop them back up again when we were hauling stuff. I started my car and pulled out of the garage, making sure the door closed behind me. The sunshine shone through the windshield, illuminating the golden tones in Kat's hair, and the red in mine.

"Do you know if your mom is home?"

Kat shook her head. "No, but I think she does have work today. Alec should be home, though."

Ah, Kat's brother, Alec. In simple terms, so we don't go into a long and detailed discussion, he's a douchebag. In more ways than one. Of course, you already know this.

"Okay, well, we're gonna need help hauling this stuff. Do you think he'll help?" Kat looked out the window for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, he'll be more than happy to help. Alec's the one who suggested my mom kick me out."

I clenched my jaw angrily. Nobody should be kicked out of their house, period. Especially a seventeen year old girl who couldn't afford a car payment, much less rent. If I saw her brother, I would probably kick him in the balls.

Kat sensed I was pissed, so she expertly changed the subject. "Hey, what if we go to the mall after this?" I thought it out, but I wanted to move her in today, and not have to worry about it later.

"No, I have some other surprises for you. And we still have to go get your screen fixed." I ground out my words, my knuckles white from how hard I was gripping the steering wheel. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to kick her bother. My foot twitched in anticipation.

To distract myself, I reached over to my radio and turned it on. When one of my favorite songs came on, I sang. It was a thing I did when I wanted to crush someone's skull, which in all honesty was far too often to be normal.

"Because I was born this way, I got lightning running through my veins! Ain't nobody gonna stop this train, so hop on board, I'll get out the way!" Kat stayed silent, aware that I was trying to calm down.

After a few minutes, nearing the end of the song, we made it to Kat's house. It was white, with a small green lawn adorned with rose bushes on the edges. There was an orange tree in the middle of the grass, shading the front door. It was a one story house built in the mid 80's. Vines grew on the side of the house, making their way to the roof.

I pulled the key out of the ignition and stepped out of the car. Remembering the many times I had seen police cars in front of this house, I reached in my glove compartment for my small bottle of pepper spray. My dad had bought one for my sixteenth birthday, it came with my car as a "safety precaution".

He gave it to me just in case. It was police grade, and would blind someone for a few days if sprayed in their eyes.

Kat's eyes were wide when she saw me getting the pepper spray. "Hey, you're not gonna blind anyone, right?"

I shook my head. "No, but I have a really bad feeling about this…"

We stepped out, and opened the trunk to get the boxes. Kat carried them, while my hand lingered on the cool silver bottle in my pocket. We walked up the steps to the house, and I rang the doorbell. After a few moments, I heard cursing, and something glass falling on the floor. Some grumbling later, and the heavy wooden door opened.

A very drunk Alec poked his head outside, recoiling when the sunshine hit him in the face. Whiskey was hot on his breath, a beer bottle in his hand.

"What the hell do you want?"

I smiled too sweetly, making sure that Alec knew I wasn't joking around. "We're here to get your sister's stuff." My eyes narrowed dangerously, I wanted to kick him so badly. My leg twitched again, and Alec noticed. He quickly moved to the right, letting us in. I walked to Kat's room, a small laundry room I had only been in three times before. I hated her house, the air was always heavy with liquor.

The door was ripped off its hinges, broken in pieces on the floor. Posters were ripped on the walls, items scattered everywhere. I took in a deep breath. "Kitty, who did this?"

Her eyes darted around the room, bouncing from broken item to destroyed bed. Her eyes were tearing up, her hands shaking by her sides. "I.. I don't kn-. I don't know, Cole."

I reached for her shoulder in a comforting way. "Hey. Don't worry about it, okay? It's just stuff. I'll buy you new stuff." She nodded numbly and opened a box, piling stuff in it. I did the same, and soon everything was packed away. I stacked three boxes and gave them to my friend, who had been tearing up for the past hour.

"Go take these to the car. I'll be out in a second with the rest of the boxes. Okay?" Kat nodded, and a couple of tears streamed down her face. I watched as she made her way to my car, ducking out the door and sidestepping to avoid Alec. When she was out of earshot, I glared at the douchebag.

"What do you want, Alec?" He smiled in a sick way down to me, he was maybe three inches taller than me, but scrawnier. I could easily beat him to the ground if it ever came to that. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?" His breathe stank of liquor, and he faintly looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. He was also very clumsy, he was leaning on the wall and spun too quickly.

I cocked my head to the side. "What if I said no? I'm not interested in dirtbags who treat women like their property." Alec's face contorted in anger, and balled up his fist to punch me, but he missed by a couple of inches. I didn't flinch, I just giggled when he fell because of the misaimed punch.

"See what I mean? At least you're with your family now." He was on the floor and he couldn't get up, so I took advantage of the fact by both teasing him and getting the hell out of there. He tried to raise his face in a questioning way, but he failed dramatically.

"The dirt. The dirt is your family, everyone else is too smart to want to be related to you" I clarified. I picked up the remaining boxes, around four, and left. Inside, I was dying of laughter, but at the same time, I was scared silly.

He had tried to get me to go out with him before, but when I refused he had backed down with a little bit of incentive. I cleared my head of negative thoughts and focused on getting the boxes in the car and getting home. It was only six in the afternoon, so that left plenty of time to get Kat moved in, even though the sun seemed to be going down quickly.

When I had put the boxes the back, Kat's boxes in the trunk, I got in the car without talking and sped for my house.

"What's wrong?"

I didn't answer her, I just clenched my jaw and pushed my foot against the pedal harder. Kat's eyebrows rose from my lack of a response. "Did you spray him?"

I shook my head. "No, he asked me to go on a date with him, I refused, he was too drunk to land a punch, so he fell. I then proceeded to make fun of him and get the hell out of there."

Kat's eyes widened as I spoke, and when I finished, we fell into an uncomfortable silence. Luckily, it was only a ten minute drive back, so I didn't have to worry about talking. It was overrated anyway. I pulled into the driveway, stopping my car in the open garage where my mom's car was now parked.

I grabbed three boxes, and Kat took the other four. Before we could make it to the door, my mom's brown hair popped out in a cheerful way. "Hey, girls! Your dad told me what happened, and I am so sorry. You're welcome to live here." I grinned, but it went unseen because my face was blocked by the huge box I was holding.

Kat sounded so flustered when she answered, I would bet twenty bucks she was smiling too much to answer. "Mrs. Matthews, thank you so much!" My mom was probably smiling, too. She had told me multiple times that Kat was the sister she wanted me to have if she wanted to have more kids, so it was no surprise my mom welcomed Kat into the house like she was a long lost cousin or something.

The top box I was carrying was lifted off my hands, and my mom's gentle and motherly expression came into view. Her smile became even wider, now a huge toothy grin. "Let's go to your room, Kat!" I swear my friend almost dropped her boxes.

"A room? Are you kidding me? You have a room for me?"

I made my way through the hallway and started walking up the stairs. "Yeah, I started on it two years ago. I knew you would want to leave your house onetime or another, so I made it to your taste. I hope…"

"Cole, I'm sure it will be fine. I'm just surprised that you have a room already for me!" I couldn't turn around to see her, but I'm sure that if I did, I would see her huge megawatt smile. A couple of seconds later, I stopped in front of her room. My mom opened to door the reveal the light blue walls, huge bathroom, and walk in closet the size of her old bedroom. "Do you like it?"

I put the boxes down on the cream colored carpet next to my mom's and Kat's. When I turned to my friend, tears were streaming down her face, and she was hugging herself. "Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded before flinging her arms around me. "Thank you so much!" She started full on sobbing now, my shoulder already soaked.

I stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before tapping her elbow. "Can you please let go of me now? Please?"

She nodded and turned and hugged my mom. My mom reacted differently than I did, she was fully prepared and hugged Kat back with enthusiasm. "You're welcome, Kitty." Yes, my mom calls my friend Kitty.

When the chick flick moment ended, the three of us unpacked. Kat had the closet, I had the room, and my mom had the bathroom. Within the hour, we were done. My mom went downstairs to make lunch for us, it was probably going to be reheated pancakes.

I looked up from the dresser I had just wiped down to the closet to my left. "Kat, do you know if you're missing anything?" Kat shouted back from the closet, I think she was organizing her clothes by season.

"Just Canada!" Ah, right, I had forgotten about the pillow in my room. It would be the perfect finishing touch. I ran to my room to get the plush body pillow, but I found the real life Canada in its place, the pillow discarded next to him.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" I was shocked, my eyes the size of boulders and my arms on my hips.

Canada smiled at me, albeit a little shocked, Kumajirou in his lap. His voice was so quiet, I could barely hear him. "You can see me?"

I frowned. "Yes, I can, and I know who you are, Canada." His violet eyes widened. They were similar to mine, but just a tad darker in the middle and lighter at the edge. I stood unmoving, unwilling to believe that a country's personification stood in front of me. In a lower voice, I called out for my friend/sister.

"KAT! You might want to see this!" I heard pattering of feet, my door slam open, and then a scream. "Oh my god! Canada!?" Matthew was blushing from the attention and fangirling. (Not on my part, on Kat's. I'm the hardcore fan, but I'm not going to glomp a country.)

"Glomping is illegal, Kat." She stuck her tongue out at me, and then continued clutching onto Canada as if he was her lifeline.

"Kat, let go of the poor dude, he's turning blue!" I rolled my eyes when she stuck her tongue out at me in a very petty way of revenge, if you can call it that.

"He'll be alright, his brother treats him like more of a rag doll than your friend." A smooth British accent spoke behind me, startling me so much that I whipped around. My messy ponytail that I never bothered to fix hit me in the face before bouncing back to its proper place, but I barely paid attention to it.

You know why? Because in front of me was the UK, the actual Britain. Real life England.

I squeaked and my jaw dropped. My knees started to feel wobbly. England, like a gentleman, ran over to help me. He was in his usual green uniform, brown boots. His blonde hair was a neat mess, all over the place, but organized. His green eyes were striking, almost unnatural, like mine and Canada's, just a more normal color.

I started hyperventilating. This couldn't possibly be real, I was just really losing it now. The bullying and dreaming was finally catching up with me. I told myself this, over and over, like a mantra. "Not real, not real, not real…"

England laughed, and I swear my heart stopped. It was the same laugh from the anime, which just proved that he was real.

And he was in front of me.

"Fuck. You're real, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Were you expecting your pillow?"

I nodded, too busy trying to not pass out from lack of oxygen. England sat down next to me, rubbing circles on my back. He laughed again, but this one was more airy and loose. I gasped, and grabbed his hands.

My violet eyes looked in his emerald ones, desperately looking to see if he was actually real. I heard a voice that sounded like mine.

"Prove it, prove you're real." My face was scrunched together in concentration, looking at England for any sign he was a figment of my imagination. I felt a pinch on my arm, which hurt more than it was supposed to.

"OW! What the hell?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry love, you wanted to know if I'm real or not." I nodded in understanding. Kat's voice broke the second long silence.

"If you guys are real, how come you're here? Where's the G8, or the Allies?"

England let go of me and sat on the couch in the corner of my room. The small polar bear in Canada's arms pried itself loose and ran to the sofa. He climbed on the comfortable suede cushioning, his head in England's lap.

"I performed a spell to recruit forces to help with the war, but only Canada and I were transported here. It's a different universe, isn't it?" Kat nodded as she forcefully pried herself off of her anime crush. I could tell she really wanted to keep herself on him, but he looked uncomfortable, and she just realized that.

"Sorry…" Kat sheepishly looked at the ground, slightly ashamed of her quick and hasty actions.

Canada just nodded, his cheeks burning a bright red. His red uniform was crumpled, his pants holding the impression of Kat's body. His blond hair was everywhere, his curl the only thing in place. It was ridiculous looking in person, so much so I wanted to giggle. England seemed to take this better than Canada, probably because I hadn't attached myself to him.

"You two landed yourselves in a place where your universe is an anime. Cole and I are huge fans, we were watching it earlier today." She gestured to the TV, where the show had been paused at a screen cap of Chibitalia.

The two characters turned their heads to look at the TV. Canada was still quiet, but we could still hear him, even if we had to strain our ears.

"I think I know why we're here then. If you two watch the show, then you would know what happens, eh?"

England had a thoughtful expression on his face. "That could be why we were sent here, but that doesn't explain why Canada was sent with me, or the fact that we were sent, but not you sent to us."

My cheeks burned when I realized a possible answer. I was hesitant to say it, but Kat started glaring at me so intensely I was afraid she would kill me if I didn't say anything.

"Um, basically, I like you, England, and Kat likes Canada. We both had pillows with you guys on them, which could have been your portal in. Look next to Canada, its right there." Everyone but me nodded, I was too busy staring at the carpet below my feet. England noticed my discomfort, and he changed the subject.

"Cole, correct?" I nodded, confirming that it was my name. "You have very particular eyes, only countries have them…"

My eyes stayed glued to the floor when I gave my answer. My voice was laced with bitterness, expression placid. "Birth defect. I got purple eyes, pale skin, and black hair. And trust me, not adopted, I watched the birthing video."

I shuddered at the memory of when I had asked my parents if I was adopted and my mom showed me the old VHS tape. I was scarred for life after that, I was only ten!

Everyone stayed quiet, noticing my mood had been brought down considerably. The white polar bear didn't seem to notice or care about the mood, because his soft voice broke the silence.

"I'm hungry." Canada looked over, and slowly got up to get his bear. Kumajirou reached up to be picked up, and when he was, he asked the question that made Kat and I REALLY angry whenever it was on screen.

"Who are you?" Canada looked sad before all emotion was wiped from his purple eyes and he looked down at his polar bear. "I'm Canada."

Kat sprang up, and a pained look flashed across her soft features and lightly tanned skin. "Really? He feeds you and you don't even bother to remember his name? What the hell, Kuma?" Both countries looked startled that Kat had said anything, but I quickly sprang into action before my friend killed the poor bear.

"Kat, remember the head cannon? Think about it." I was talking about was that Kumajirou did remember who Canada was, but he wanted Canada to remember who he was. It made complete sense, and I was quick to share it with my fellow Hetalia fanatic.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. But it is just a head cannon, it was never confirmed." She looked sheepish, but still angry.

Canada kept looking at the floor, but he sat himself down on the couch, on the other end, a good four feet of space between him and the British country. England was the one to ask what we were talking about, a questioning glance shared between him and the Canadian.

Kat beat me to the punch, explaining the thought with the same bitterness I had, but only giving a few details, not the whole headcannon. "Basically, the head cannon is that Kumajirou knows who Canada is, but he pretends to not know so that Canada remembers who he is, cause he's ignored. It sort of makes sense."

Canada played with the hem of his red uniform shirt uncomfortably, while England looked overwhelmed with information.

"Kumakimou, is that true?"

The bear was silent except for a small "eh?". Canada sighed and turned his attention back to his shirt, fiddling with a small piece of string that had come unattached. England glared at the bear, a scalding look that even America would shy away from.

A frown gradually formed on Kat's face, up until she exploded. "Kumajirou, you have got to be one of the most frustrating animals on the whole earth!"

Wait, if the poor animal was trying to help Canada, why was Kat getting so mad at him? "Why the hell are you getting mad at Kuma? If he is trying to help, then leave him alone. Obviously, he'd know Canada better than you'd know him just from the show. He's spent so much time with 'em."

"No, it's okay. He's just trying to help. Thanks, Kumajuka." The Canadian's voice was so quiet that I had to strain my ears to hear him, and even then I had to fill in a couple of words I couldn't make out.

"Kumajirou." I couldn't help but correct him. Why did he always get it wrong?

"Oh, right." Canada picked up Kuma and placed him in his lap. The bear shied away from him at first, again asking "Who are you?". His poor owner gave his usual answer, and Kuma then stayed comfortably in his lap without trying to get away.

"Why don't you tell us more about where we are, and who you are. Not to be ungentlemanly like, but we know almost nothing about you." England spoke up, getting our attention away from whatever we happened to be randomly staring at. I was staring at a corner of the wall, and Kat seemed fixated on the curl that was defying gravity on Canada's head.

Even though he was across the room, I could tell Canada felt her stare. His cheeks were light pink, and his neck was kind of red, too. When Kat realized what she was doing, she quickly looked away, smiling like an idiot, most likely of embarrassment. I jumped in with an answer before she could say anything in her flustered state.

"I'm Cole Matthews, I'm seventeen years old, and I was born on Earth day in 1998. I like anime, my favorites being Hetalia and Ouran High School Host Club. I enjoy animals, writing, learning, and steak. Also, I like SuperWhoLock. What can I say? I'm a badass."

We both smiled inwardly at the Supernatural reference, one that the men in front of us wouldn't get. It wasn't a well-known Dean quote, but Kat and I watched it so often and so many times over we could probably recite the entirety of season one, and the other seasons weren't too far off.

Kat took it as her turn to continue when I finished. "Katherine Sedren. Also seventeen, my birthday is in June, on the eighteenth. Um, I like Hetalia, Sherlock, Supernatural, Avengers, and Doctor Who. My favorite food is bacon with melted marshmallows drizzled over. And… yeah, that's kinda it."

She paused for a moment before continuing. "Completely off topic, but are you depressed?"

At our confused glances, she clarified. "Canada. The free health care nation, with the amazing maple syrup that Cole won't stop talking about. Are you depressed?"

Canada was quieter than ever, it was almost impossible to hear him. "It's that obvious, eh?" Both Kat and I nodded, and my friend walked over and sat next to Mattie.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head, curl bouncing around, and glasses slipping off his nose. Kat pushed them back up for him, earning a flustered blush from Canada. It was kinda obvious they wanted time alone, so I reached over and grabbed England's wrist.

"Do you guys want time alone? Yeah, I can tell you do. Come on, let's leave them alone." I grabbed my laptop and phone and headed off the entertainment room across the hallway from my bedroom. England ran after me, barely able to keep up.

"Bloody hell, you run faster than Italy when he's retreating!"

I pointed him to the large U shaped couch when he finally followed me into the room. When he was comfortably sitting, I walked over to the other side of the couch, facing him. My laptop and phone comfortably sat in my lap, just waiting for the right time to be used.

"Why are you here?" My simple question caught him off guard, since he was looking around the room in fascination.

"Germany seems to be overtaking much more than we thought possible." His brows fell in sadness.

"What year is it on your part?" I have to know what I'm working with, so I can give him the proper advice before they leave.

"December 15, 1941." England kept his head down. He looked so crestfallen, and I would, too, if I were him. His soldiers were fighting almost every day, all while I'm sure he's somewhere else planning another attack on the Axis.

"So you're really early, then." I touched my chin in thoughtfulness. The war ends in 1945, so he has another good three, maybe four years. Wait, December 15? That means that America and Canada have officially entered the war, which means more allies to work with. That's good, I can give him tips on how to work with that.

"What do you mean, early? How long does it take to defeat the German maggot?" His voice rose in anger, to which I shushed him.

"I'm not sure I can tell you. Do you know that the basic rules of time calls for hints, not full details?"

"What do you know of the basic rules of time? I'm positive you haven't time traveled." Damn, the sarcastic shit was brutal.

"Maybe not, but I know you'll be alright. You always are. I mean, the Great British Empire, one of the largest empires in the world, never to be defeated, not permanently anyway." My mind drifted to all the classes I took and all the books I read on British history, it fascinated me.

"You controlled almost the entire world at one time, that takes quite a bit of power. Rich history, powerful leaders, beautiful queens, you have it all. Why should Germany take any bit of that away from you? You're a powerful nation. Don't let America or France, or anyone else for that matter, tell you otherwise. Though you should have stopped Hitler. You had so many opportunities to do that, I can't count on my hands and toes put together."

England was silent, his eyes blankly staring at me. To be honest, it was a little uncomfortable. Did I have something on my face?

"What?" I touched my cheek, searching for something that could have landed on my face. England seemed to snap out of it, because the blankness in his eyes was filled. "Nothing, just that no one's said that about me before. The Adolf Hitler part, almost everyone, but not the 'rich history' area."

"Oh." I looked at him dumbly. "I guess… You're welcome? I don't know, I didn't say anything that wasn't true. It really is a beautiful place. Maybe even more than France, and even Austria, but that's just my opinion. And take it with a grain of salt, I've never been outside of the US."

"Hmfph, I'm most certainly better than that cheese loving surrender monkey!" His dark blond eyebrows raised up in his fit of passion. England's hands balled at his sides, much to my amusement.

"You actually call France a cheese loving surrender monkey?" I really wanted to giggle. No, repress it, no giggling.

I still ended up smirking a little bit. Damn it.

"I only call the frog what he is." I paid a bit more attention to his accent. It was smooth, not choppy like an American's imitations, or some other accents I had heard. England's seemed to be like spun silk, weaving through into fabric with no difficulty. That is to say, it sounded really nice.

"What's 1,000 frogs?" When a joke comes to mind, I have to use it, and the opportunity is too good to be true. When England stayed silent, obviously waiting for the rest of the line, I smiled through my pretty pathetic humor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter three! Sorry for not updating sooner, I went to Disneyland with my family, and oh my gosh it was amazing. Y'all should totally go on the tower of terror. (It's an elevator, it takes you a couple of stories up, then you freefall. You can feel your stomach go into your throat, it's super fun and absolutely terrifying). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And don't forget to review what you think.**

"A French army."

England snorted with laughter, even going so far as to cover his mouth with his gloved hand. His emerald green uniform matched his eyes perfectly, just bringing them out more. The black boots were dark, contrasting his uniform and pale skin perfectly.

"Huh, you look a little different here than you do in Hetalia." I cocked my head to the side as I studied his features.

His blond hair had hundreds of different shades of yellow, white, and brown in it to create the perfect color, his skin was almost flawless. When he laughed, and not to seem weird, but he had the stereotypical crooked British teeth, but it was very slight, and mostly his bottom row of teeth.

His jawbone was perfectly sculpted, and his cheekbones were high, bringing balance between his eyebrows and the rest of his face.

"Really? What do I look like here?" The smooth accent had hints of sarcasm and humor in it, but it didn't deter me from taking a picture with my phone and showing it to him. I pulled up my camera app, going through the menu bar to get the highest quality photo possible with my phone. When I had everything set up, I tapped the screen to focus it and took the pic.

"Here, don't drop it." I stood up, giving my phone to the poor Englishman who had likely never seen a cell phone before, since he had come from a time where stuff was still advancing. He took the phone with hesitant hands, but when he saw the screen, a faint pink tint made itself present on his cheeks.

"This is what I look like?" He seemed to be flustered, not expecting what he saw. I think he looks just as handsome as in Hetalia, if not more so.

"Really? Just as handsome?" I blushed in embarrassment, face now as red as a tomato from Spain's garden.

"I didn't realize I said that out loud…" My voice was super soft now, and my face was covered by my hands in embarrassment. England's face was a mixture of amusement and something I couldn't identify. Either way, it was at my expense.

I kept my eyes away from England's and reached for my phone. My cheeks were still hot, and I'm pretty sure I looked traumatized. We stayed silent, the only sound was the soft mumbling of two people conversing coming from my bedroom.

"Why is a picture of me on your screen?" Oh my Doitsu, this one is going to be awkward.

Try not to stutter, try not to stutter, try not to stutter…"Because. Um. You're my favorite country?" I tried to look at his face, but I didn't have the guts to. The worst part, it was fanart of him. And ya'll know what fanart usually looks like. Yeah, it was England, shirtless, with a rose in his mouth.

"What type of favorite? That was drawn, and I doubt you have art like that for someone you like casually, love." Damn him and his stupid attentiveness. And how had he gotten to my lock screen anyway? He never had a cell phone before, he's from World War 2 for fuck's sake!

"Before today, you were my favorite character from an anime, a cartoon. You weren't real, and I never thought you would be." My defensive side was coming out. No matter how embarrassed I may be, I still defend myself, even if I really don't have to. It's a flaw I need to work on.

"Girls! Lunch is ready!" Saved by my mother. I sighed as I stood up, stretching my back. As I walked out, I kept my gaze down as I walked to my room to get Kat. "I'll be right back."

England didn't say anything, he just smiled and nodded. My cheeks started burning again, so I got the hell out of there and focused on getting my friend downstairs. As I neared my bedroom, I heard soft voices, but they were too low to figure out what they were saying. I lightly rapped on the door, careful to not be too loud.

"Kat? Mom made food, it's probably pancakes again." An excited gasp later, the door opened to a very happy best friend. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and my comforter was thrown across her shoulders. Her eyes were red and puffy like she had been crying, most likely with Canada. And then I was asked something that I was not expecting.

"Can you get them for me? I don't want to go downstairs…"

I snickered. "In other words, you want to spend more time with your love." Kat blushed, her face now just as red as mine was a few moments ago. "Basically. Go get the food, asshole." She slammed the door in my face, leaving me with a huge dopey grin on my face.

Now in a happy mood, (I know, right?), I headed downstairs to get enough food for five people.

"Mom? What did you make?"

"Pancakes and hot chocolate!" My mom's cheery voice carried through the first floor, just proving my point that she had made pancakes, or at least reheated them.

I ran down the stairs in a rush to get my favorite food. When I got downstairs, my mom was nowhere in sight, but two huge plates of food were on the table. Pancakes were steaming hot on each one, maybe fifteen per plate. A cup of hot cocoa was next to it, also hot and steaming.

There was a pot on the stove filled with the excess cocoa, which I poured into two more cups. I made a cup of Earl Grey, lightly sweetened, for England in a huge soup mug. I took another two plates, too, and separated the pancakes on the plates.

Two more forks were still needed, so I grabbed those out of a kitchen drawer, and grabbed the maple syrup from the fridge. I put all the stuff on a tray and balanced it in my hands as I made my way upstairs.

It's a miracle I didn't drop it, because it was really heavy and I could barely see where I was going. When I was halfway up the stairs, someone with big brows took two of the plates. I almost fell down.

"You don't have to do this, its fine." I was panicking, what if my parents saw him?

England frowned. "Nonsense, a gentleman helps a lady." We walked up the stairs until we made it the large hallway leading to the bedrooms and offices.

I grabbed the cup of tea and cocoa and handed them to England, since he already had two plates. "Hey, can you take the plates to the entertainment room? I'm gonna take these to Kitty and Canada."

England nodded. "Sure, love. Where do you want me to put the plate?"

"Um, the table is fine." He left, and I walked over to my room and knocked on the door. "Kitty! I have your food!"

The door was thrown open by Canada, a bloodthirsty type hunger in his eyes. "Is that pancakes?" I nodded, just a *bit* intimidated, before I handed him the plates and cocoa. (More like threw…)

When they had their food and my door was slammed shut by the crazy Canadian, I went back to the entertainment room to eat and talk to England. I wanted to ask him about himself, and find out how accurate we as a fandom had his personality.

When I got there, he was relaxing on the sofa, legs crossed and the steaming tea in his hands. The food was on the coffee table in the middle of the room, both of the plates set in front of our decided positions on the couch.

"Thank you for the tea, but I have to ask, what do you want to discuss?"

I cleared my throat in an attempt to get rid of the blob of emotion. "I wanted to ask about… well, you. How well has Hetalia portrayed you?" England looked up thoughtfully after taking another sip of the hot drink.

"I don't really know. Do you have anything specific to ask me about? If you narrowed it down, perhaps I could be of more help."

I took out my phone and brought up Hetalia Wiki, and clicked on the England page.

"Okay, first off, your name. What do you prefer being called? England, Arthur, United Kingdom, or Britain?"

"It depends. When I'm out in public, Arthur is preferred. Everywhere else, it's usually England or Britain." I tapped my chin. "Okay, that makes sense."

"Next question" I smiled evilly, "do you like France?" FrUk was a huge shipping in the fandom, as was UsUk, but I want to narrow them both down. Some part of me really hoped that he didn't like anyone, but I wrote it off as the irrational fangirl portion of my brain.

"Why would I like a drunk, wine loving croissant?" There was no joking tone, nothing to signify that he was kidding. Okay, so England doesn't like France. That's good to know. But what about America?

"America?"

"What about the hamburger loving idiot?" Okay, nothing there either. So then UsUk and FrUk were ruled out. I can't say I cared, I'm a non-shipper, so I tend to not want to get anyone together.

My finger scrolled through the Wiki page until I came to the end and noticed something interesting. "Anyway, on another note, can you swim?"

"OF COURSE I CAN BLOODY SWIM, WHAT, DO YOU THINK I CAN'T?!"

I raised my hands up in surrender, pretending to be sorry. "Hey, people think you can't. I did too until now." England looked so offended I couldn't help but start laughing, much to his distain. My sides started cramping up, tears making their way down the sides of my face.

"Bloody hell. I think that's enough…" I stopped laughing, but I did keep giggling every few moments.

Then I remembered that the pancakes were getting cold, as was the cocoa. "Oh, food! I totally forgot!"

I grabbed my plate and dug in. England followed my example, albeit more hesitantly. His huge cup of tea was almost empty, and he seemed like he liked it. After a pancake, he looked up at me and asked, "Don't you have scones?"

My voice was muffled, since I was stuffing my face with food, and I was a little irritated that he didn't seem to be eating them. "Yeah, I think, but I might have eaten them all."

"If you don't have anymore, I'm happy to bake them." He sounded earnest, that might not be such a bad idea…

Wait, SCONES? ENGLAND? GOD NO!

"Hell to the no, stay as far away from my kitchen as the universe allows. You are not to enter it, you hear me?" I swallowed the bite of pancake I had before I spoke, words rushed and slurred together as I gestured wildly, a lot like a certain personification of Italy.

"Fine, I'll stay away from the kitchen."

Content with his answer, I went back to eating my pancakes, happily eating them like a chipmunk.

"You switch from mood to mood fairly quickly." His sudden statement had me stop mid bite, and swallow what I had in my mouth so I could answer him. England is not the first person to notice my mood swings, so I'm not surprised he commented.

"Well, some people just do, it's a personality trait."

"No, you're different. You tend to switch to calm down a situation, and you defend yourself far too quickly, or you let comments that should get something out of you pass far too easily."

"What, you want to know the exact reasons I act the way I do?" I glared at him, eyes hard in anger. He stared back, just as determined.

"No, but there is something going on, otherwise we would not be here. Where are we by the way? I assume America, otherwise you wouldn't have that accent."

"Colorado. And don't change the subject." I didn't soften my eyes. He was up to something, I know it. England was pretty damn manipulative, too, but luckily not as bad as Italy.

"Hmm, what's wrong with you, then? You are very particular, purple eyes, black hair, and mood swings. You don't seem to be set on any one personality, in fact, you change so quickly that I can't determine what you're like. You have interests, but nothing set in stone. Do tell, do you see what's wrong with this picture?"

"Nothing besides that you can't figure me out." What was he getting at?

"Nevermind." England turned his attention from me to the wall, studying the light brown walls with sudden interest. The conversation seemed over, so I went back to eating.

I shoveled the last piece of pancake into my mouth. The delicious maple syrup really added sweetness, and frankly, it was amazing.

England was still brooding, (what a funny word), so I interrupted him, getting his attention again.

I raised my eyebrow. "What are ya thinkin' aboot?" I purposely added the Canadian/Southern accent, as per my personality. England rubbed his face with his hand in an effort to pull himself back to reality.

"How to get back home." I looked down in shame for not remembering that he would want to go back. Of course he wanted to go back, why the hell wouldn't he?

"Have ya got any ideas?" I could feel him watching my every move, probably trying to figure me out. I don't really blame him, I would do the same. I would be super surprised if he could discover me, I didn't even know myself.

"Not at the moment, no. Do you have anything?"

Something clicked in my mind, whether or not it was me grasping at straws or not, I don't think I know, but I think it's a good idea. "When you try to go places, you always end up making portals to wherever Russia is, right? Why not do the same spell, and use it to get back?"

A thoughtful expression passed over the Brit's face. "That could work." I inwardly cheered. I felt accomplished! I checked the time on my phone.

"Ugh, it's nine already? Time sure passes fast…"England's green eyes followed me as I got up off the couch and moved to the door.

"Hey, I'm gonna let Kat and Canada know how late it is, my mom wants us to go to bed before ten."

"What are you two, children?" His voice was laced with sarcasm. I crossed my eyes at him, making sure he knew I wasn't joking around. "No, but I will kick someone if I don't get enough sleep, and because of that I appreciate my mom's efforts to keep me sane. Just so you know, I'm really close to kicking you. At least now I know why the frog likes to irritate you, you bloody git!"

His eyes opened wide, and in that very moment I realized I had gone British. I even adopted the accent as I spoke, and near the end I sounded exactly like a British person, if not the female version of England. I had never done that before, and it kind of freaked me out. (Kind of is an understatement.)

England voiced my thoughts. "You… You just sounded like… me." I flushed in anger, mostly because now I was stuck with the female version of his voice, and unable to hold back my retort, I shouted out my comeback.

"If you weren't suck a bloody twit I wouldn't have!" I clamped my hand on my mouth to keep me from talking any more than I already had. England's eyes were now green saucers, wide and filled with shock and worry.

"What did you say your name was? Cole? Does that happen to be short for anything? Nicole perhaps?" I shook my head, hand still clamped over my mouth. When I trusted myself enough, I removed my hand just long enough to answer him, accent still prominent in my speech.

"My parents thought they were having a boy, ended up with me."

The personification nodded and closed his eyes. "Alright."

I ran out of the room until I ended up at my door. Remembering the rule my mom had drilled into my head since I was young, I knocked on the door twice before entering.

Canada looked like he had been crying, Kumajirou was on my bed sleeping, and Kat was rubbing Canada's back. I took a step back when both their faces registered on mine.

"Erm, something happened." The damn accent was still in my voice, refusing to leave. Kat and Canada noticed straight away and shot up, Kat being the one to run to me.

"Cole, are you okay? Why the hell do you have a British accent? Did England cast a spell or something?"

I tugged at my hair in frustration. "No. We were talking, and the arsehole pissed me off. Then I started talking like this. It's annoying!"

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to find it was Canada. "It's going to be okay."

I settled down and fell on my bed dramatically. "Today was too eventful and tiring. I'm going to go take a shower, and then I'll come back and address the sleeping situation." With a sigh, I stalked over to the bathroom a couple of strides away and locked the door.

When I took my shower and changed into pajamas, I entered into an empty bedroom. "Great, those tossers left me alone…" I put on slippers and opened my door to be greeted by Kumajirou at my door, looking extremely flustered.

"Hey Kuma, where's everyone at?"

"Who're you?" I grumbled about him being a selfish bear and picked him up. I first checked the entertainment room, where England had last been. His plate sat clean next to an empty tea mug. I saw my empty plate next to a half full cup of cocoa, forks discarded on the edge of the table.

After I put Kuma down on the couch, I stacked the cups and plates for easier cleanup. When I was done, I left to go look in Kat's new room. When I neared the door, I heard soft muttering, so I quieted my footsteps to listen in.

I heard Kat's voice first. "England, are you sure? You can't be serious, she said it herself, she watched the damn birthing video!"

"Yes, but she also said that her parents were expecting a boy. I'm positive."

"Oh, maple. You know what this means, right Britain?"

It was silent for a few moments before a grim voice disturbed the uncomfortable heaviness tangible even in the hallway. "Unfortunately, Canada, yes, I do. I'm not very happy about it, either."

"What do you have to be able to back this up? Her mom and dad will never let her leave, not unless she decides to leave on her own." Kat seemed frustrated, her voice a couple octaves higher than normal.

"She's not normal, there's something about the way she carries herself. She's much smarter than she lets on."

What the hell were they talking about? Judging by their quiet voices, they didn't want to be heard, so I painted a smile on my face, balanced Kuma on my hip, and opened the door.

"'Ello! How's it hanging?" They stopped talking, and Kat's worried expression was quickly covered by an obviously fake and pained smile. "Hey, Cole! We were just brainstorming ideas on how to get the boys home!" I knew she was lying, but I decided to play along. I looked around in confusion, my violet irises finally landing on England.

"Hold on, I thought you said the spell would work." He looked around guiltily until they landed on my so called "friend" and his fellow nation for support. Surely they know that this was one of the most suspicious ways to "back up your truth"?

"Well, uh, you know. Just in case it doesn't…?" Canada cannot lie for the life of him, lemme tell you that. I even dare say they had no idea what I was talking about.

I looked at Kuma, daring him to say something about how we were outside listening in on them. The white polar bear just pawed at me and looked me in the eyes like "don't worry, I won't say anything", which I have to say I really appreciated. In return to his look, I gave him a tiny nod and put him down.

"Here's your bear." I placed the arctic animal in Canada's lap, making sure it was comfortable for the bear, but not the shy asshole that had just lied to me in my face.

"Okay, I just came to clear up the sleeping situation. Canada, you stay with Kat, England, you stay with me. You can't use the other bedrooms cause they're filled with shit my parents stuffed in there, and our sofas are too small for you to sleep on. Also, we both have king size beds, so I don't think you need to worry about too little space or falling off the bed. You two great nations can put up with the living conditions, yes?"

I had glared at everyone except the adorable bear, inducing fear into their tiny little cold hearts. (In case you don't know, I'm very pissed off.) Everyone nodded vigorously, meaning my Russia stare had worked. Judging by England's face, (and since he's scared of very little besides Russia), I think I did very well. I clapped my hands and put on an innocent smile that could also translate as "I'm going to kill you in your sleep", and then I pointed to Kumajirou.

"Kumajirou, where do you want to sleep?" As a response, the bear climbed out of Canada's lap and to the edge of the bed, where he reached out his arms like a toddler to be picked up.

My grin widened, much to the discomfort of everyone else. They seemed flustered that Kumajirou chose me over Canada, but none more than the maple loving nation himself.

"Kumakichu, are you sure?" Kuma nodded when he was situated in my arms. My smile started showing my teeth, where joy was pooling into my heart, as I had always loved animals and was honored Kuma wanted to stay with me.

"Well! That settles it then. England, I'll leave the door open for you. Close it when you come in, okay?" I didn't notice when my accent dissipated, leaving the usual American accent back in its place. Everyone else did, though, leaving them only more confused and bewildered.

I flipped my head so quickly that my wet hair hit my face, but I simply brushed it off with my free hand. When my hair was off my cheek, I started walking to my bedroom, but not before England ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. "This is more complicated than I first thought."

A frown made itself present on my face as I pushed open my bedroom door. On my nightstand was my hairbrush. I grabbed it and started ranting while brushing my absurdly thick and soft hair.

I paced my room, Kumajirou was on my bed, silently watching me as I muttered angrily in French. I had chosen it because I knew the arctic mammal would understand me, going off the basis that Canada was raised by France, therefore he spoke a bit of French.

"Ces idiots! Ils pensent qu'ils peuvent parler derrière mon dos sans me remarquer! Pensent-ils vraiment que je suis stupide? J'ai été victime d'intimidation toute ma vie , ont-ils pensent vraiment que je ne voudrais pas remarquer les regards qu'ils ont donné de l'autre quand ils ont pensé qu'ils ont été capturés!?"

(Translation: French. Those idiots! They think they can talk behind my back without me noticing! Do they really think I'm that stupid? I've been bullied all my life, do they really think I wouldn't notice the looks they gave each other when they thought they were caught!?)

I looked at the polar bear in desperation. "Comprenez-vous tout cela?"

(Translation: French. Do you understand any of this?)

Kumajirou nodded. "Oui." I sighed and threw myself on the bed. I put my hairbrush down, my long hair now fully brushed and still soaking wet. I busied myself with petting the soft fur, feeling all the stress wash away, and a longing sadness fill the void that was my anger.

"They don't think of anyone else, do they?" My voice was low and sad, filled with all the pain I had endured the last seventeen years of my life. This was not the first time a "friend" had betrayed me, but it was the first time Kat had. She had always been there for me, no matter what, and it had only crossed my mind during the darkest of my moments that she would betray me, but I never actually believed for one second it would come to pass. Alas, peace never lasts, nor do friendships…

I stopped moving my hand through the silky fur to turn off the lights and climb into bed next to the bear. When I was fully underneath the warm black sheets, Kuma climbed next to me, also under the blankets, and hugged me as we both drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up again, it was because England had climbed into the bed. He was as far away from me as the bed permitted without falling off.

He was such a sissy…

I blearily opened my tired eyes to see platinum blonde hair four-ish feet away from me. Under any other circumstances, I would have played a game to see if I could touch it without him noticing, but I was far too angry. Instead, I turned to my other side, refusing to even look at the British man for fear of bursting into tears. Kumajirou followed suit, crawling over me so he could keep hugging me for my warmth. (I don't know, bears are weird!)

When the strong urge to cry went away and I was finally falling back into my otherwise deep slumber, I heard a smooth voice whisper. "Goodnight Cole." I ignored him, pretending to be asleep until I actually did fall into the deep abyss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:**

 **Chapter four is here! YAY! I hope that you enjoy it, and don't be afraid to let me know what you think. I may not update for a bit, I just found out my biological father is coming back, so there's going to be a lot of stress. I'm very sorry.**

"Wake up love, I believe you have school." I groaned and rubbed my eyes at the unwelcome awakening.

"Why the fuck did you wake me up?" The voice now identified as England snickered. "Wow, I thought America was bad when I tried to wake him up. Well, you are his citizen, so I guess I can say you are the same…"

I shot upright in bed, scrambling to my feet with an angry expression flooding my super tired features. "You know what, UK, you can go stick it up your ass!" I didn't see his smug expression because I was too busy storming off to my bathroom to get ready. I washed my face, did my makeup, and got dressed in something more appropriate than grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

When I emerged, I looked like a warrior princess ready to avenge my brother's death. My black hair was long and wavy, reaching down to my butt. The grey fringe made it look chic, and the braid in the middle just brought it up a notch too. My makeup was done lightly except for my lipstick, which was as black as my soul. I had painted my nails black a couple nights ago, too, just to keep the theme going. My t-shirt was white and had the Axis on it, my jeans were a stonewashed grey color. I put on black converse to finish the outfit.

Kat, Britain and Canada were waiting for me when I got out. Canada and Britain were wearing the same thing as yesterday, which I can't say was much of a surprise. Kat, however, was wearing a wrinkled grey blouse with regular jeans and house slippers. Her hair was in a simple ponytail, adorned with only a sparkly gold hairclip to bring out her yellow undertones. She didn't have any makeup on except her signature winged liner and mascara. She was lucky, she didn't have pimples of any kind. (Not that I was bad, but I do get the occasional breakout every now and then. What? I'm not perfect, not in the least bit.)

I flashed a fake smile because I was too peeved about last night to muster up a real one. "What's up, bros?" I gave them all hard gazes, unwilling to weaken.

Canada and Kat gulped. England also looked terrified if you really paid attention, but he refused to show it, instead putting on a brave face for the sake of the two love birds to his right.

"Cole, I-. No, we, wanted to tell you something." I wasn't really all that surprised that they wanted to talk to me; it was probably what they were so secret about yesterday. I wanted to rip their throats out Germany style, and my hands flinched by my side. Canada and Kat's eyes widened with a squeak from both of them. England continued, but carefully watching my every move, focusing on my hands.

"We were talking yesterday, and we have a speculation that you are a personification. We don't know of what, but only three humans have been born with unnatural eye colors that didn't somehow pertain to a country, regardless of what dimension they were born in." My forced smile slowly melted into a sneer, my hands now shaking under the pressure I was keeping them under so I didn't strangle on of my oh so *dear* friends.

"And why are you deciding to tell me this now, England?" My American accent was dripping with anger and hurt, enough to kill the nation were he to feel my wrath. I took a step forward, and the three of them took a step back to keep the distance between us. I know I'm overreacting, but I can't seem to help it, it's like years of anger and resentment were finally being let out.

"Oh, come on, we were getting along just fine, yeah?" England was grasping at straws, trying to prevent the inevitable, his murder. (Okay, not murder, but you get the point!)

It was lucky for them that Kumajirou stepped through the door at that exact time, because if he hadn't, I honestly don't know what I would have done. I probably would have beat the ever loving shit out of the British prat, taken the maple syrup out of the Canadian, and… I don't know what I would do with Kat. She was still my friend on some level, so I couldn't hurt her.

"What's wrong, Cole, eh?" I turned to the bear before speaking in a rapid rush of French.

"Kuma , que dois -je faire? Ils disent que je suis une personnification, mais je ne les croient pas, mais sur le même plan que je fais. Je suis tellement en colère, je ne sais pas quoi faire. Aidez-moi?"

(Translation: French. Kuma, what should I do? They say I am a personification, but I don't believe them, but on the same level I do. I'm so angry, I don't know what to do. Help me?)

Canada stood speechless with his mouth open, as Kumajirou walked over to me and hugged my leg when I started sobbing.

The normally quiet Canadian and the Brit shouted at the same time, "You speak FRENCH!?" I ignored them, continuing to cry while the sweet bear spoke to me back in English.

"Everything will be okay, eh? Don't worry aboot it." I sat down on my plush carpet, holding my head in my hands. After a moment, I picked up Kuma and held him in a tight hug. The bear hugged me back while in the background, the three stood awkwardly.

England started muttering something about how much he hated the frog, Kat just stood there before turning to Canada to ask for a translation, and Canada kept staring at me with his mouth open, completely unaware of my friend asking for help.

After a few moments, I stopped crying and rubbed my eyes, groaning when I realized my eyeliner was smearing everywhere. I got up weakly, brushing past England when he offered his hand. I went to the bathroom to take my makeup off after I had put at least half an hour into this look. Mentally groaning when I saw the perfection I had so carefully applied on the wet napkin, I came out when all traces of makeup were gone from my face.

"What questions do you have for me now that you know I can speak French?" I was tired, so tired, and all I wanted was to skip school and sleep, but I knew that the trio would have questions, and I had questions for them.

England spoke first. "What other languages can you speak?"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully, a habit acquired over weeks of Spanish class. "I can fluently speak French, English, Latin, Romanian, Russian, Polish, German, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, and Spanish. I'm currently learning Finnish. I can write perfectly in all of them but Chinese. I'm having a hard time picking that one up."

Kat jumped up and down while the nations gaped at me. "Cole, when did you learn all those cool languages?"

I shrugged. "It takes me around two or so months on average to pick on up fluently, three months to learn to write it." Britain started to turn blue before muttering something under his breath I was barely able to pick up.

"Only a Nation learns that fast. What the hell is your IQ?"

I laughed hollowly, I was considered a genius, but I acted like I was dumb. If I showed how smart I really was, the bullying would get worse than it already was. "176."

"176!?"

"Maple! That's close to impossible, eh!"

"You're a bloody genius!"

"OH MY GOD COLE, THAT'S HIGHER THAN A NOBLE PRIZE WINNER!"

I shrugged and picked up Kuma again. I walked over to my comfortable mattress and pulled the comforter from its perfect place on the bed and wrapped it around myself and the polar bear. I wasn't cold, not on the outside anyway, but I felt uncomfortable and unsure of myself.

"It's not that big of a deal, I've never even told anyone."

The two lovebirds gaped at me, completely speechless, while Britain stood there and fumed. He turned red, up until he broke.

"YOU'RE A GENUIS AND YOU'VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE? NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL? ARE YOU INSANE, DO YOU REALIZE THAT ONLY TWO PERCENT OF THE WORLD HAS AN IQ THAT HIGH!?"

I blushed and looked at my hands. I was super quiet now, fully aware that I was being watched like I was going to make a break for it. "I don't think it's that relevant, I am who I am and I'm not going to change. Besides, it would just give the bullies another reason to pick on me…"

Far from the high voice I had just heard seconds ago, England's voice was soothing and too calm to be safe. "The bullies? Cole, how much were you bullied?"

I barely whispered, my cheeks bright red and burning from the searing looks being thrown my way. "A lot."

Kat decided to be helpful and chip in. "It got so bad that she was homeschooled for the fifth and sixth grade." While she was talking, she slowly moved over to my bed, and sat a few feet away in some effort to comfort me. When she tried to touch my shoulder, I flinched back.

"Don't touch me." Her face fell a little, but she plastered a small smile in place of the crestfallen and heartbroken look in her eyes. A small voice from the corner of the bed broke the awkward heaviness in the air that made it almost difficult to breathe.

"Why'd you lie to her?" Kuma was looking at Canada. Canada shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Oh maple… Um, Kuma, what do you mean?"

"You made her cry. Why?" England's eyes opened from frustration to shock. Kat stiffened. The Canadian looked ashamed, before he sat down on my couch and took off his glasses. "Kuma, I don't know what you're talking about." He brushed it off like it was nothing. He had just heard from his bear that they made me cry, and he didn't care?

"Vous savez quoi, Canadia? Vous êtes tous les trous du cul."

(Translation: French. You know what, Canadia? You're all assholes.)

I threw off my blanket and marched outside. When I made it to the stairwell, I grabbed my discarded school bag and ran down the stairs, not stopping until I reached the garage. I quietly opened the door and stepped out, car keys in hand.

When my car was started, I headed off, going at the most reasonable speed I could when I was angry. It was a slow twenty minutes to my school, but I made it in time, five minutes before the bell rang.

I ran to my first class, Calculus. "Hey, Mrs. Newhower!" I tried to wipe off my puffy and red eyes, praying at the same time my teacher wouldn't notice. Luckily, she didn't even look up from her papers. "Good morning, Cole. Please sit down before the other students get here." I looked around, and sure enough, I was the only one in the class.

Mentally, I rolled my eyes because I didn't notice that I was alone besides my teacher, but it didn't matter now, because just as I sat down and started taking notes, the Miller twins strolled in. They were bullies, picking on everyone they didn't like because they thought they were superior. They really weren't, and the teachers rarely take crap from the kids, meaning that they were sent to the office almost every period. Unfortunately, they were the kids of the mayor, so the principal never got them in serious trouble in fear of being fired.

The tall one, Jed, started snickering about something, probably a joke about me, seeing that I was the only one to make fun of in the class besides the teacher. The small one with the dyed blond hair outright called me out, but I never bothered to learn his name to tell you what it is.

"Yo, Cole! That's your name, right?" I rolled my eyes and ignored him, instead focusing on the detailed Latin notes on my paper. (I took notes in different notes for every class so that people couldn't cheat off of me.)

In frustration when I couldn't see the bottom row of notes, I ran my hand through my black hair. Grey fringe blocked my view so I didn't see the scrawny teenager make his way in front of me. When I pushed my hair back, I was met with two very angry asshats.

"Bitch, we were talking to you."

I closed my eyes in an effort to keep calm, opening them a few seconds later when I was somewhat sure I wasn't going to punch one of them, or strangle both. "I'm not a bitch, and if I didn't answer, why didn't it cross your mind I don't want to talk to you?"

The tall one, Jed, put his hands at his sides and balled them up. I saw him and smirked, not at all fazed. I had dealt with worse, and kicked their asses to hell and back. I had no problem taking the scrawny pubescent teenagers in front of me.

"What's a freak doing here at our school?"

I crossed my arms. "Learning. Have you got a problem?" The small one took what I think was supposed to be a menacing step forwards, but it just seemed like he was moonwalking.

"Yes, actually. You should leave, or else." They both cracked their knuckles for effect, but I snorted. "That's it? Or else? Mein Gott, come up with something more intimidating."

(Translation: German. Mein Gott means my God.)

Jed slammed his fist into the desk next to me. The rattling of metal rang through the otherwise silent classroom, the teacher not taking any notice. How inattentive are teachers? I sighed and tried to go back to my work and finish the notes before the rest of the class came in and everything went crappy, but my notebook was stolen from under my gaze and went into the attention of an idiot who wouldn't understand one word.

"What the hell are you writing in, freak? Is your eyesight screwed up just like you?"

I clenched my fists below the desk. "Please put my notebook down."

"Wow, you're weird, just like your people. What are you going to do, hurt me? You're a girl, you can't do damage to either of us." Jed and his punk of a brother were really riling me up.

My purple eyes had caused me to be teased, bullied, and even beaten. When I was in six grade, though, to convince my mom to let me back into public school, I had to learn self-defense, but I never used it unless I had to. Just so you know, I put this here for future reference.

"I'm not going to fight you, just please give me my notes back." The boys smirked, and the blond one gave it to his taller brother who held it above him. I was easily two inches taller than the taller brother, I was one of the tallest in senior year, but I don't think they knew that.

"Make me." I closed my eyes for the second time, forcing myself to let go and go back to my notes, I already had the paper memorized anyway, and I only took notes because it was required. They were usually graded at the end of the semester, where I would turn them in translated back to English. I didn't want to get into a fight, I would get in trouble, and as soon as the punks were out of the hospital, they would go right back to bullying other people.

I tried to grab another piece of paper, but a thin wrist grabbed my hand. It was most likely the small twin's; judging by how it looked like it belonged to a middle schooler. I ripped my hand away from his grip and continued ignoring them. When I tried to reach for another paper, someone grabbed my long hair.

"You should let go." I tried to stay calm, but let my voice hint at my anger.

Jed scoffed. "Or what?"

"Let. Go." I waited for a few seconds but when nothing happened, my eyes narrowed dangerously and I shot up out of my seat, flipped around and punched taller douche number one. My knuckles popped from the force, a sharp stinging pain going through my hand, but otherwise I was fine. Years of training helped me overlook the pain, and be able to tell how much was okay and how much force was going overboard.

He let go of my hair and dropped my notebook while he was trying to tend to most likely broken nose. My eyes glittered with danger when I turned to the small shrimp. I was one and a half inches taller than him, which was quite a big difference when you think about it.

"Are you next?"

He scuttled away in a hurry, probably traumatized at the sight of his twin on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. I heard someone clap, and after a few moments it sounded like the whole class was clapping.

I glanced at the classroom door; the whole class was actually there, the teacher right in the front with looks of awe on their faces. My face fell when I realized they had probably seen the whole thing, and I was going to get in serious trouble for assaulting another student.

Someone whistled as the class kept cheering. My face turned bright red from the attention I had never received in my life, it was an odd change.

"I- um- I'm gonna go home, I'm sorry…" I kept my head down as I tried to rush out the door with my backpack slung over my shoulder, the people flocking around the door not helping my efforts to escape. My face was definitely as red as a tomato, my ears burning.

I didn't look where I was going; I just rushed past people and to the office to sign out. The clapping didn't stop, but people started whispering about how badass I was. I heard some students I vaguely membered call my name, but I kept going.

When I reached the office, I flung open the door and practically laughed for joy when I saw the sign out binder. I reached for the binder and a pen, quickly signing my name and the date, leaving the reason for absence empty.

I gave a bright smile to the office worker and ran out the door, jumping into my car and speeding home to two nations, a friend, and two parents who won't be very happy to see me. I made the normally long drive in less than ten minutes because the traffic wasn't that bad, and I may have been speeding.

When I was on my street, I made a sudden realization I had been too rushed to think about.

"Wait, why am I going home when the reason I left was because of them? I don't have anywhere to go…"

I brushed off the panicked voice in my head and got out my phone for music. As weird as it was, Germany's character song, I am German-Made always calmed me down, so I plugged in my phone to my aux cord and let it play. Tears still making their way down my face, I blubbered along the first few words.

"Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf"

Tears were pooling around my hands which were below my face, in my lap. I had the urge to break down again, but pushed out as much of the urge as possible and focused on singing.

"Seigi to wa nani ka

Seii to wa nantaru ka

Ai to wa nani ka

Tsuneni shinken shōbu da"

I screwed up a few words, since I was trying to not cry, but I was otherwise pretty good. I was fully into it, even tapping my feet with the drums and straightening my back when Germany commented on it. When the song ended, I thought a bit about my options.

I could go home and talk to England and Kat, go back to school and get in trouble, or escape to face my problems later. The first on would clear things up faster, the second one was a bad idea, and the last one would inevitably lead to the first one.

Going home it is.

I started my car again and drove the quarter mile to my huge house. It was two story, large backyard, and huge lawn in the front. It was a similar style to the neighbors, but small differences made it possible to tell the difference. I pulled into the driveway instead of the garage, making sure that Kat and the Nations could see my car from outside. Instead of unlocking the door, I knocked and waited for someone to answer.

When the door opened, I was faced with short blond hair and an odd looking curl. (In other words, Canadia.)

"Cole! You're back? Why?"

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, wiping my eyes at the same time, making sure he didn't see the action. "No reason. Where's Iggy?" Canada looked a little scared, like he had just let a murderer into his house, except this was my house and I lived here.

"H-he's up-upstairs."

I wanted more than anything to run out the door behind me and never come back, but I recalled Germany's song. "Forwards march."

I sang the song quietly as I walked up the stairs, not realizing that Canada was listening to me, hanging on to every word to tell to England later. I took a deep breath when I made it to the top of the stairs, where I was just twenty feet away from my white bedroom door. It was slightly opened, probably from Canada when he had left to open the door.

In an effort to stall, I asked Canada where my parents were. If the doorbell was rung, they would be the first there. His answer: "They went on a date."

I didn't doubt it, but I couldn't come up with anything else to stall with, so I had to force myself upstairs. I took quiet steps to my door, rapping on the edge with my knuckles lightly to alert my friends that I was back.

England's voice shot out an irritated snap directed at the blonde headed curl next to me. "Canada, who was it?"

In response, I stuck my head through the door, fully expecting to be hit by Kat.

"Not Canada, just me."

England shot up and opened the door fully. I couldn't say anything; it was like my mouth was wired shut. He looked tired, sleep deprived and beaten, his gorgeous hair everywhere like he had run his fingers through it multiple times in anger, his carefully pressed military suit now rumpled, and his boots disregarded by my closet door.

"Cole? Why are you here? I thought you were angry an-."

I cut him off with a tight hug, one I'm sure would hurt later. Tears welled up in my violet eyes, my throat choking up. I had made him like this, anxious and worried, all because I couldn't control my temper.

"I'm so sorry, England. I'm so sorry…"

I pressed my face into his shoulder while he kept his arms by his sides, overwhelmed by my sudden hug, my apology, and the fact that I was there at all. He placed his chin on my head and hugged me somewhat awkwardly.

"It's okay, love. It's okay, I forgive you."

I raised my face up to his in disbelief. "Really?" He nodded his head. "Yes, I promise."

A smile broke out as I pressed myself further into the Brit. I mumbled, but I think he could hear me, because he grinned.

"I think I might love you even more now…" I was too tired to blush, too tired to function. It's like the longer I stay awake the more tired I get.

Kat gaped at me, knowing that I would never come back unless something happened. I didn't notice when she sidestepped England and I to walk over to Canada and ask what had happened. England did, though, so he took his warm hand off my back and closed the door. When it was closed, he guided me to my bed, noticing how exhausted I was.

"Come on, love, you should sleep for a bit." I complied, simply falling on the bed face first before turning on my side to face the Englishman.

I tugged in his sleeve. "Ugh, stay with me."

His face turned crimson as he tried to get away. "It's improper for a gent-".

I pulled on his arm, tugging him down to the bed whether he liked it or not.

"I just went through hell, and I dragged you through it, too. Please stay with me. S'not like I'm gonna be naked or something."

"If you insist…" He took off his outer coat to be in a simple white shirt before he plopped down next to me, face to face.

"Can you go to sleep, now, love?"

I nodded and placed my head on his chest, falling into a dream world of nightmares and fears.

 _I was in a black room. There were no doors, no windows, and no light. I couldn't move, I was stuck in place, like I was chained down._

" _Hello? Is anyone there?"_

 _Nothing. I tried to move, but my limbs wouldn't comply._

 _A laugh that sounded like England resonated through the dark room. My heart beat hard in my chest, almost painfully as anxiety crawled up and clutched me._

" _ENGLAND!?"_

 _I tried to look around, but I still couldn't see anything. When I gave up and closed my eyes, a bright light flashed against my eyelids._

 _I opened my eyes to be faced with a bloody and broken England. He was bleeding from multiple areas on his body, uniform torn and burned in places, hair now a dark brown blonde, stained with soot and smoke. England smirked and a small trail of blood left his mouth, trailing from his lip down to his chin._

" _How does it feel, Cole, to know you did this to me?"_

 _I stared at him, horrified. "NO, I WOULD NEVER! Please, believe me, I would never hurt you…"_

 _I couldn't look at him anymore, so I screamed at the top of my lungs for someone I knew I didn't hurt, because I would never hurt him, no matter what._

"ENGLAND!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:**

 **It has been brought to my attention that Cole is becoming a Mary Sue, and I, after some rereading and review, have to agree. I'm going to be bringing some hardships to my beloved character, some that are physically painful to myself, so I just put this here as a word of warning. Please don't be surprised or shocked when Cole is going through the wringer, I'm still experimenting with this story and deciding if I want to keep going, so I want to make sure she's well rounded and well written.**

 **Thanks to all of you who have been reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it! Especially those of you who have been rereading the rewritten parts, since you have read my last story draft. Ugh, I feel like I'm saying "re" too much. Anyway, let me know what you want the genius to be going through, I need some ideas.**

 **Hugs to all of you, my amazing readers and followers! Have a good day, and I hope this story brings you some form of enjoyment in this stupid, crazy, and unfair world we live in.**

I woke up with a start, sweat glittering my brow and shirt. My chest was heaving heavily, each breath like a knife through my lungs.

I heard a groaning and felt the bed shift. The smooth accent I had just heard in my dream drifted through the cold air, warming me even though I was shivering.

"Are you alright?"

I turned sharply to make sure the real England was there, not a broken and bloodied one.

His hair was everywhere, sticking up, patted down, in general, just chaos. His eyes were sharp and bright, a true emerald that was so rare in real life. There was no blood on his face, no blood dripping from his mouth. Nothing crimson or remotely red was on him.

He reached over to me, concerned when I burst into tears, blubbering about something even I didn't understand.

"It's okay, love. Don't worry, yeah?"

I nodded in his shoulder and tried my hardest to stop crying. It was hard, because whenever I closed my eyes, the broken England was in front of me, mocking me and telling me how I had done this to him.

When I was more composed, I raised my eyes to meet his.

"I was in this black room, and then I saw you, but you were bleeding and just broken..." I started crying again, and the Brit's eyes widened when he pieced together what I was saying.

"You had a nightmare about me?"

I nodded my head furiously as I clutched the nation like he was my lifeline, which in a way he was, because I needed something to ground me, and in this moment, it was England. To help calm me down, he stroked my hair and told me how he was perfectly alright, not to worry.

I stopped crying, but a small sob would come every few moments. When I was done, I wiped my eyes and laid back down, turning away from the personification in shame.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to break down like that." Strong hands pulled my shoulder so I was on my back looking up at England.

"Cole, I don't want you to be ashamed because you cried. Everyone has to break down every once and a while, even me, okay?" I nodded my head, blushing like I was some stupid high schooler. (Which I am).

England laid back down with an "Oof". I tried to turn away from him, still blushing, the close quarters not helping my situation, but he kept one of his arms draped tightly over my torso.

"Night." I closed my eyes, trying desperately to fall asleep, but the welcoming darkness was far away and out of my grasp.

I kept my eyes closed until I heard Iggybrow's light snores and heavy breathing. When I was sure he was asleep, I carefully unwound myself from the blankets like a ninja so I didn't wake him up. I crawled to the edge of the bed, just barely missing one of his legs.

I bounced off of the black sheets and made my way to the bathroom. Since I couldn't sleep and I loved showers, why not take a warm bath or something like that? I opened the bathroom door to enter the grey walled room. The wall my sink was against was made of mirror, reaching from wall to wall, reflecting my tired appearance.

I had a medium white rug on the floor that turned red where water touched it, my shower curtain made of the same material. I had a large bathroom, not basic by any means. My tub had water jets in it, also separate from my shower. I had two sinks, and the toilet had its own little room to stay in so you had more privacy should more than one person be using the bathroom. I hated how big the bathroom was but it would cost too much to make it smaller because of the plumbing, so I didn't bother to complain.

The cold tiles chilled my bare feet as I walked over them to the tub. The cool metal spout was perfectly clean, I almost never used it, but I was a clean freak, not a speck of dust made it out alive. I turned on the water to the heat I wanted and waited while it filled.

Instead of sitting there forever, I went to the pile of books I had on a small table next to the tub and grabbed a random book. I placed it on the tub's side and went to get bubble bath soap and poured it in the warm water. When that was done, I turned off the water and got in the tub.

The water loosened knots I didn't realize I had, earning a small sigh of contentment from me. I grabbed my book, which just so happened to be Hetalia manga, and read.

I must have stayed in the water for an hour, because the water started getting cold before I even wanted to get out. In a quick rush, I washed my hair in the soapy mess before getting up quickly and drying off with a nearby towel.

I wrapped the fluffy white cloud around my tall and thin body. My bathroom was connected to my closet, which was connected to my room. The office was separate, accessible from the north wall of my room.

I dressed in flannel pants, a green camisole, (basically a tank top) and fuzzy socks. I towel dried my hair, and brushed it out when it was somewhat dry. There was a knot that was particularly hard to brush out, but I kept at it and eventually got rid of it. By the time I was done, my usually straight hair was wavy, curling at the ends. I nodded to my reflection, opting to ignore the bags under my eyes and focus on how I looked.

"What happened to make you come back?"

Kat appeared behind me. I eyed her reflection in the mirror, not bothering to turn around as I arranged my grey fringe to its proper place. Lying to her would solve nothing, so I opted to tell her the truth.

"The Miller jackasses tried to pull some shit, so I punched the tall one."

She gasped, mouth open while she glared daggers into my back. "How badly did you hurt him?"

I shrugged. "Probably broke his nose." I started to put my hair in a braid, one of my favorite hairstyles besides ponytails.

"Have you told England yet?"

"No, I don't want to. I can take care of myself." I put down my brush and tied off the braid where it ended, just above the crook of my back. It was silent as I wrapped the hair tie around the end of my hair.

"I'm going with Canada."

She couldn't possibly mean to Hetalia, right? My brows furrowed when she started elaborating.

"To Hetalia, I mean. We really hit it off, and he said I can stay with him when we go." I whirled around, confused and angry.

"You've know each other for a few days, and you're already moving in with him?"

She shook her head. "We have to go. They came here to get us, and you're a personification. It's where you belong, not here. And in all honesty, I don't have anyone besides you, so since you have to go, why can't I?"

"No, you think I'm a personification. There were three others who weren't, I could be the fourth." I crossed my arms over my chest in a show of stubbornness. They couldn't force me to do anything I didn't want to.

Kat took a step forwards and stomped her foot on the ground. "Cole, the only reason we're still here is because of you! England already figured out how to get back, the boys are just waiting for you to agree to come. Stop being a little baby and grow up, this is fucking World War two!"

"Why should I give up my life for them? I'm staying, and moving to Arizona, and getting married and having kids! I'm not giving up my life over a fucking hunch! I have a life to live, things to do."

"Be real! You haven't even had your first kiss yet, and you're thinking about getting married. Face it, you have a better chance in another universe than you do here. There hasn't been one guy that's come up to you and declared his undying love, never mind small crushes. Grow up, dipshit, you're not going anywhere!" Kat screamed in my face, voice rising the farther she got into her rant.

"You're right." I stared at the ground in shame. I couldn't even bring myself to be angry, to scream, to do anything. I was exhausted, both physically, mentally, and psychologically. The sleep that I should have gotten instead of taking a bath was coming back to haunt me, so I was left super tired and drained.

Kat's mouth was pressed into a fine line. "We leave in the morning, get your stuff ready." She spun on her heel and walked out, leaving me to pack.

My eyes burned with unshed tears. I growled, angry at, well, everything. "What the hell is wrong with me? I've been crying and running away like a freaking sissy!"

In an angry rage, I ran to my closet and took out my suitcases, one for clothes, two for anything extra. I packed close to my whole closet in the largest suitcase, making sure everything was carefully organized for maximum packing capability. Ten pairs of jeans, twenty t-shirts and ten camisoles/tank tops later, plus unmentionables, socks, and scarves, my clothes were done. In another suitcase: shoes, movies, electronics, and stuff to help the Allies. The last suitcase was makeup and such. What, I have thousands of dollars of the stuff, you think I'm not going to take it with me?

When the packing was done, I placed the suitcases by the door. I slipped on some house slippers and quietly walked to my office, making sure to not wake the still sleeping Englishman. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't wake up when Kat was screaming her lungs out at me.

I opened the black office door, still in ninja mode. It creaked a few times, but England didn't stir. When the door was opened just wide enough for me to slip in and out without any problems, I went in and took out my WWII books, historical battle encyclopedia, and everything I would need. I piled them into my arms and made my way back outside to my bedroom. When I pushed open the door, England was nowhere to be found.

"England?"

No answer. Maybe he went to the bathroom or something?

I took the books and organized them in my suitcase, careful to hide them under some other stuff so the Axis wouldn't see them if they were to steal my stuff. I zipped up the suitcases, now fully packed. All I needed to do was to talk to my parents, but that could wait until the morning. Speaking of morning, what time is it?

I got up and went to my phone which was still in my backpack. I hadn't taken it out yet, in all honestly, I had forgotten about it. I clicked the home button to turn on the screen.

"It's only ten PM? Wow, time's weird."

I took my phone out to charge it, grabbing my headphones in the process before saying screw it. I was going to listen to music without headphones, it looked like Iggybrows was up anyway.

I opened YouTube and clicked on my Hetalia playlist, making sure to pick the right one, since I had multiple playlists for each country. I couldn't decide what country's song I wanted to listen to, so I randomized it and waited until the video loaded. It just so happened to be England's song, Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman. I listened as the first few notes played, dancing when his voice floated through my room.

"Nanatsu no umi wa niwa dakan-na. Roman to ryakudatsu

Indo, HonKon, bessou chi keiei

(Fyu~.) Koucha umaina!"

I closed my eyes and spun while quietly mumbling the somewhat familiar lyrics.

"Shinshi teki ni i-ko-u-ze

Sumaato sa ga daiji

Yoyuu misete

From the cradle to the grave!"

I sang the English part loudly, jumping in the air with a fist punch as I did so.

"Shinjiteru koto aruze! Yousei,

Noroi, yuurei, mahou

Hiniku demo tashinami nagara

Waratte, waratte, susume!"

I sang more confidently, I knew these lyrics.

"Nanatsu no hoshi wo yomi toite

Asu wo uranae

Karee, chuuka, bessou no meshi

Miito pai, umaize!"

As the song wore on, I grew more and more confident, dancing and singing without a care in the world. Two minutes into the song, though, I grew tired of the same rhythm and opted for something else.

"Hmm, would the demon summoning song work? No, too dark. Oh, I love China's singing… Hehe."

I clicked on China's song, which was smooth and really good in general. (Gourmet Heart's Beginner Level.)

"Yamu yamu yamu yamu yamucha

Oishii tanoshii ninki mono

Sore ga yamucha yamucha aru

Honkon mo yoku iku aru kedo

Kigen wa watashi Chuugoku aru

Jiǎozi shāomài xiǎolóngbāo

Yuumei aru ne?

Xìngrén dòufu mangoo purin

Shitteru aru ne"

I stopped to catch my breath, the song was really fast. While I had been breathing, I had missed quite a bit of the song, so I had to catch up and figure out where China was now.

"Diǎnxīn tabete ocha nomu no ga

Yamucha aru!

Ocha mo oishiku

Hōfu aru yo!

Chuugoku cha no shurui wa suuhyaku shurui ni noboru aru

Pǔ'ěr chá shòuméi chá shuǐxiān chá

Júhuā chá zhíguānyīn chá

Ocha wa abura wo nagasu kounou aru aru yo

Biyou ni mo ii aru!

Detekitara mazu wa shokuhin wo ocha de arau aru

Nakunattara futa wo zurashite okeba

Sosoide kureru aru

Diǎnxīn to narande yamucha no shuyaku no hitotsu aru

Oishii tanoshii ninki mono

Sore ga yamucha yamucha aru

Amai aji wa tiándiǎnxīn

Shio no aji wa xiándiǎnxīn!

Lái lái lái lái Chuugoku

Lái lái lái lái gensou-teki

Lái lái lái lái miryoku-teki

Lái lái lái lái bishoku no sekai"

I loved the HA! parts, and I punched the air much like America would.

"Yamucha yamucha yamuchamuchamucha

Yamucha yamucha panda mo issho

Yamucha yamucha yamuchamucha

Minna de tabetai aru

Oishii tanoshii ninki mono

Sore ga yamucha yamucha aru

Kokoro ni akari wo tomosu aru

Sore ga yamucha yamucha aru!

Ni-ho-n-mo-ku-ru-yo-ro-shi

Ip-pa-i-ta-be-ru-yo-ro-shi

Kodomo mo otona mo

Sedai wo koete

Yamu yamu yamu

Minna de ya-mu-cha"

When the song ended, I was sweaty and winded, but proud of myself for not messing up some of the words.

"Take that, China!" I laughed obnoxiously, feeling too American to deny the urge to slip into his personality. "HAHAHAHA! I'm the hero!"

"Obviously not, but you did a bloody good job with those songs. Are they in Japanese? Is that why you can sing them so well?"

Well, I guess Britain had been at the door watching me. "Yes, otherwise I wouldn't be able to pronounce a damn thing." I was still in my America persona, and I was not going to slip out of it anytime soon. One of the few times I might slip out would be after I wake up if I were to go to bed, so…

Soon.

"Why are you acting like America?" He looked like he had just woken up, though it was most likely half an hour ago. England hadn't put on his outer coat, and his shoes weren't on either, sporting his white sock clad feet. He looked hot. (Woops…)

"Cause I'm American and I can." An evil grin spread on my face when I realized that I could fit in his catchphrase. "And because I'M THE HERO! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHA!" England's face dropped when he realized he had royally screwed up by giving me the opportunity, officially ruining all chances of me stopping.

"Right, well, your friend Kat informed me that we'll be leaving in the morning. Are you sure?"

The smile on my face stayed in place as I laughed it off and exclaimed that I was the hero and the hero was always sure, but inside I was dying. I loved my parents, but I was going to give it all up because I knew somewhere that Kat was right. Even if I wasn't a personification, I wasn't getting anything done here, besides school. I may not belong in Hetalia, but I didn't belong here.

I hadn't written anything for my parents because I wanted to talk to them face to face and tell them what had happened and where I was going. I wanted to cry in my mom's arms one more time and to hug my dad, knowing I'll never see them again.

I knew why the Allies needed my help, there were times where they had almost lost the war, there were times when they had looked for help. I guess I was the help that helped them win, at least in that universe. What was the use of crying about it when I had to go? If I plain refused, England would probably knock me out and take me anyway, and Canada wouldn't do anything to stop him.

I turned away from England before he noticed I had started to tear up, instead focusing on downloading pictures of the countries from the internet, along with things I think I would need when in the past in another universe. I don't know, how the hell do you prepare for something like this?

"What are you doing?" When I was sure my eyes had cleared up, I glanced at England before flipping my phone around to show him fanart of him, usually in an awkward situation. I had clicked on a personal favorite, one of him shirtless, with a tattoo of tea on his chest. I answered him with a deadpan expression like it was no big deal.

"Fanart, dude."

I swear I have never seen anyone blush that hard, or run out of the room so fast. With a smirk, I saved it to my phone in case I needed leverage for blackmail, making sure to hide the file and lock it under a password. I also downloaded a similar picture of a nation in a compromising position for almost everyone, making sure I got the most embarrassing fanart or screencap possible. I was halfway into looking for another one for America when I heard the front door open and soft pattering of feet down the hallway, most likely Kat and the nations behind her.

My mom's voice was barely tangible over my snickering about the pictures I had managed to get, but I heard her none the less. "Cole! Kitty! We're home!" I practically threw my phone on the bed before I ran down the stairs in a blurry.

"MOM! DAD!" I rushed forward and hugged them both, making sure that it wasn't too tight.

My dad's smile was enough to remind me that I was never going to see them again, which sent me down a downward spiral.

"Hey, Cole. How were you while we were gone?" My mom was always super considerate of other people, almost asking every day how I was doing and what I was into so she could surprise me with it. She had even cleared her schedule for a weekend once to watch Supernatural with me. I appreciated her, and I hoped she'd forgive me for what I was going to do.

My happy façade dropped, instead being replaced by how I was really feeling. "I have to talk to you guys. It's really important."

My dad sighed, running his fingers through his short brown hair. "You're not pregnant, right?"

I shook my head profusely; I had never even had a boyfriend! "DAD! I haven't even kissed anyone yet!"

He shrugged, and wrapped his hand around my mom's waist. "Then it can't be that bad, right?" Oh, what they didn't know. I took in a deep breath and lead them to the couch in the other room. When we were in the family room, I pointed to the cushions.

"You might want to sit down…" When they were properly situated, I started.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning." My mom bit her bottom lip in worry. "Where, honey?" I took in another deep breath in an effort to calm my frantic heartbeat.

"I'm going to Hetalia."

My dad started laughing outright, hands slapping his thighs in amusement. "Cole, honey, you have to be joking! It's just a TV show!" My mom didn't say anything; she just stared at me in shock.

Rage filled me. They didn't believe me, but I was telling the truth! If they wanted proof, I would give it to them, then! I turned to the stairwell and shouted at the top of my lungs, making me hoarse.

"ENGLAND! CANADA!"

Granted, it was a bit too loud and a tad overboard, and the whole neighborhood could probably hear me, but who cares?

Kat's door hesitantly cracked open before Kumajirou stepped out, followed by Canada, England, and then Kat. I glared at them harshly, motioning for them to come out. When they were all downstairs in front of my parents, I then turned my anger to my dad.

"These are the personifications of Canada and the United Kingdom, Britain, or England. Whatever you want to call 'em. That polar bear's name is Kumajirou. You can call him Kuma for short."

My dad's face dropped. My mom looked up for a quick second before averting her gaze back me. I waved at the countries. "Why don't you guys introduce yourselves?"

They all said some form of hello, including the bear. My dad practically screamed, my mom turned as white as a sheet.

"Do you believe me now? Or do you need more proof, because I can definitely give you more if you still have trouble believing me."

"And here I was thinking we could keep you forever without you finding out." My mom stated offhandedly. She had never told me anything like this before. With a sigh, her ashen face rose to look me in the eyes.

"We adopted you."

"Well fuck. Why didn't you tell me before?" I was surprised, but not pissing my pants surprised. I had always thought they had adopted me, the birthing video the only thing that kept those thoughts away nowadays.

"We thought that it would make your life harder, you were already going through so much."

My dad pitched in, all blood drained from his face just like my mom when he knew he had to tell me how I was actually found. "We found you in a forest on the ground surrounded by flowers and animals, on Earth day. We put the date we found you as your birth date."

My expression hardened. "It all sounds very fairy tale, though."

They both chuckled hollowly. "It does, doesn't it?" My mom spoke up. England took a step forward and touched my shoulder.

"Cole, I know who you represent now, love." I flinched away from his warm palm, instead sitting on the nearby loveseat. "You guys, there's another couch behind you, sit down." Canada sat next to Kat, and England sat at the end. Kuma crawled on the couch I was sitting on before getting in my lap. I pet him while I asked questions.

"England, who do you think I represent?" He blushed and fidgeted with his hands. "Well, I think you represent Mother Earth. It's said that when the personification was born, she was surrounded by flowers and animals, gifts and honors given to her by the earth recognizing her power and influence. And, of course, you were born, or found, rather, on Earth day, so I suppose it's safe to assume."

My cheeks flushed, he was talking with such admiration, like he was awed by the very thought of the Earth existing. I nodded in thanks and turned to my parents. "When you found me, was there a note?" My parents shook their head to show that there wasn't a note.

"Okay, why did you lie to me?"

"We were trying to protect-" I cut off my mom, this was not the time for games and lies.

"No, the real reason you lied to me. Don't go on about how you wanted to protect me, cause that's complete bullshit. Why did you really lie?"

"Because I was selfish and I wanted a kid. I had a boy, but he died hours after birth. Your father found you in the forest behind the hospital, and we convinced the nurse that they got your gender wrong." When I felt my cold expression fading, I had to remind myself that now was not the time to cry and be sympathetic, now was the time to clear things up.

"What about the video?"

"It was his, which is why you have a boy's name. I'm so sorry, honey!"

My cold heart gave way to love for a second, and I choked on my words. "I-I for-forgive you, Mom."

Well, wasn't that peachy?

I turned my eyes to the trio on the opposite couch, staring them down like my life depended on it. "Why did you lie to me? What were you really talking about in the room, besides thinking I was a personification?"

Matthew paled while Kat bit her lip. England didn't look fazed. Eventually, and much to my surprise, Canada was the one to talk. "So you heard what we were talking about, eh?" I nodded, breaking my stare on the other two to glare at Canada, scaring him into telling me the truth.

"We were talking about ways to get you to our world if you decided not to come."

At the new information my blood went cold. I knew they would make me go even if I didn't want to, but I had desperately tried to believe otherwise, thinking them to be my friends, despite the fact I barely knew two of them. I had consciously known it, though, and I didn't doubt it for one second. I ignored Britain's questioning glance when pure terror ran through my eyes. Forcing myself to continue getting things out of the way, I tried to recall any questions I might have, but nothing came up.

I was broken out of my trance when my mom started sobbing. Kat was terrified, most likely of me, Canada just looked sad, and England was focusing his vibrant green eyes on my purple ones.

The air became too heavy, it was crushing my chest making it impossible to breathe. "Mom, Dad, I love you, but I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm sorry. Big brow boy, I'll be in my room." Britain's voice broke out into a frustrated smile when I called him big brow boy, one that I only looked at for a fraction of a second before walking to my room as calmly as I could. When I was sure I was out of the sight of the others, I made a mad dash to my sanctuary before slamming the door shut.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:**

 **To Zaaze: It is not a self-insert, Cole is a fictional character. I'm not being bullied, but there is some stuff going on in my life. Thanks so much for reviewing and asking though, that's incredibly kind of you! Have a good day!**

 **Wow, I should totally start a book series on my life; though I think if we had a TV show it'd be more popular than the Kardashians. Again, I will try to update when I can, though I'm currently going through hell. Love to all of yous who are still reading and review!**

When had my life gotten so complicated? When had everything gone to this hell? Okay, the fact that I was adopted I could accept, I could even accept that I currently had two personifications downstairs talking to my parents and best friend. How many times had I been stabbed in the back while they were here? I don't really know, but I'm guessing it was a lot.

Everything was so damn tough! I guess it's not really a surprise to say that I somewhat accepted that I was a personification, if I was found in a group of flowers and surrounded by animals, I guess it made sense, but a large part of me still doubted it.

What I don't understand, though, is why everything just decided to attack me in less than two days? First Kat was kicked out, which was bad in itself, then she moved in here. Not that big of a deal. Then Alec hit on me, but that wasn't really that big of a surprise.

What was a huge surprise, though, was Canada. Don't even get me started on England, cause I'm not sure I'm done fangirling. (I'm secretly really proud of myself for not glomping him like Kat had done to Canada. Like, really proud.)

Then the bullying. I had NEVER lost my cool like that, I don't know where the punch came from, it was sudden and I still had a hard time believing that I had reacted like that. What had gotten into me the past few days? I was like an unpredictable whirlwind, and if you pissed me off or made me upset, I would cry, run away, or hit you, or all three.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt a hot tear slip past my dark lashes and slide down my face.

"Oh, hell no!" I growled. This was not a time to cry, I had done enough of that the last few days.

With a rough hand, I wiped away the tear, unnecessary anger overwhelming me. My chest constricted painfully. The only way I could describe it is like if you were to hear that everything you know and loved is gone, leaving you by yourself to deal with the guilt and pain, and you lose it. A dead weight sits in your stomach, your mind just turns foggy, and your hands reach out for anything to make you feel in control, destroying them in the process. That's how I felt.

I had been sitting in the corner of the room under my TV, which I have to say is kind of uncomfortable.

In a quick flash of resentment and pure fury, I got up and reached for the nearest object and slammed it against the wall, which just so happened to be a middle school Biology textbook. Papers flew everywhere, the hardcover textbooks undoubtedly making a dent in the drywall covered by gray paint.

I didn't care about the damage, I didn't care that everyone downstairs could hear my temper tantrum. My TV stand was the next to get attacked, DVDs and CDs flying off the shelves, books and report pages taking up the floor space. When there was nothing else to throw in one corner of the room, I marched over to my bed in a daze, ripping off the sheets and throwing them on the floor.

The damage to my once carefully cleaned and decorated room wasn't enough, so I moved on to my closet, ripping out hangers, drawers, anything I could get my hands on and throwing it to the floor. With a frustrated yell, I threw some old clothes against the wall. The soft thud wasn't enough to satisfy me, though, so I just fell to the floor.

Everything I did just made me angrier, more likely to lash out. Throwing things fueled me, but eventually too much fuel makes you sick.

A strangled yell forced itself out of my throat, the sad fact that I no longer had anything familiar to me squirming its way into my brain. Tears pricked my eyes at the thought, clear and glassy on my violet irises. Sobs racked my body, deep and hurtful with each salty drop. It was like a part of me died and I was mourning it. I could practically feel the happiness in me die with each breath, the playfulness I had wither away with my child-like innocence.

"Cole, open the door!"

It was England, probably worried sick. His voice sounded strained, like he was going to break down, or like he already had and was trying to pull himself together. Some demented version of me enjoyed that he sounded hurt and scared, like I was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

The rational part of me wanted to let him in, hug him and ask him if I could stay here and forget about everything. Even though that isn't exactly rational, I wanted to beg and cry until he gave in and found someone else. But then again, I was Mother Earth, wasn't I? Didn't I have some type of responsibility, not here but somewhere else where I was actually needed?

My tired and broken voice was as quiet as a whisper, barely tangible over his continual knocking. Why wouldn't he come in already? I probably locked the door by accident and forgotten about it.

"Go away."

"Cole, unlock this door or I swear to God I will break the damn thing down!" Kat sounded exasperated, probably at my childish antics and the random sobs carried through the air. Why couldn't they leave me alone, already? I barely had the energy to stay awake; I couldn't deal with them right now.

Just when I thought they went away, I heard splintering cracks and grunts of effort. I guess my door gave way to whoever had destroyed it judging by the crash and the sudden gasps. "Oh my God, Cole, what the hell happened here? Everything's destroyed!"

I couldn't help my sarcastic "No shit, Sherlock", which was probably a bad idea cause they found me in the closet. I was huddled in the corner hugging myself when they burst in, eyes searching the room frantically for any sign of life and surveying the damage.

Kat just took a sharp breath in when she saw how destroyed I was, how dead I supposed I looked. I could feel my hair messily pulled out of its braid, random hairs everywhere, I could feel the sweat and tears mixing on my face. What sucked more than that was that I could even feel the shame and humiliation at being found in this state curl in my stomach in a rather unpleasant way when they looked at me with pity in their eyes. I don't need pity, damn it!

I brought my knees to my cheeks and hid my face in the small crevice formed by the folding of my body. I was not prepared at all to deal with Canada, Kat, and England at the same time. It was way too tiring, my eyelids were already too heavy as it was and my whole body ached from the physical exertion of chucking things around.

"Can you guys please go away?"

None of them moved. It was silent for a few minutes, so I started drifting off, but Kat brought me out of my drifting with a sharp retort. "Well, you just can't keep yourself controlled, can you?" My friend's voice was laced with bitterness and hatred most definitely directed to me.

"It's not nice to be mean to your friends." Well at least Canada was defending me, because England was doing jack shit in that area. I kept my head down as Kat and Canada bickered.

"You don't even know her; she can never keep her shit together!"

"Cole obviously has a lot on her mind right now."

"So do I, damn it! I was kicked out of my parent's house while she has everything going for her!"

It just kept going for what felt like forever, and it only made me irritable, but I didn't say anything. Was that how my "best friend" really thought about me? Could I really not keep myself together?

"She can't even say anything, look at her, she's a mess! Why are you taking her side, Canada?"

"Because nobody deserves to be bullied by their best friend!" I have never heard Canada yell before. Okay, it wasn't yelling, just talking in a normal voice, but it was screaming for him. In an angry huff, he left, Kat slowly falling in line behind him like a duck.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I wanted to tell her to screw off, but I was too tired to. I couldn't even bring myself to care that she hated me. I was too tired. And she was right, I couldn't keep myself together, but that's okay, because when I heal I'll be stronger.

"You know that none of that is true, correct?"

Oh, England was still here, I thought he left. If he had been here the whole time, why didn't he try to defend me? I kept coming up with blanks, none of them fit with his personality.

"Sure." The sarcasm in my voice was strong.

With the back of my hand, I wiped my face and stood up. My back was sore and my neck was cramped, but with a quick rub I felt fine. England was against one of my drawers, pity written all over his face. I don't have the energy to deal with this.

I brushed past him and made my way to the door where the true chaos laid. My floor was worse than I thought it was, it literally looked like a tornado had come in, but I pushed myself on.

I started picking up destroyed and salvaged objects and putting them away if they weren't too bad. I started in the furthest corner of the room, working my way to the middle.

England's hand brushed mine when he helped pickup my movie that had been chucked against the wall. He blushed and I just kept going. S'not like he would want to be with me anyway, and we had just known each other for a few days. With that thought, I worked harder and faster.

Movies were piled neatly on their shelves, books were closed and sitting comfortably in my office. I stacked bent and torn reports, projects, and notebooks. I put the bedsheets on my bed snugly, making sure to tuck in the corners and fluff up the pillows.

My room was done, save for the broken door on the floor. With a satisfied smile, I put my hands on my hips and looked around trying to spot any types of mess that I could clean.

"Cole, you're cleaning faster than Germany, calm down." Ah, he speaks.

"How long have I been cleaning for?" I kept my gaze away from England's, I have no doubt that he was watching my every move.

"About two hours." That wasn't long, I still had hours to perfectly clean my room from top to bottom. And I still had to dust my office, that hadn't been done in a week.

I went back to work, picking up the clothes that had made their way out of my closet. Hangers went back on the rod; jeans were folded and shoved in the open drawers, shirts back in their corner. I was in the middle of putting a drawer back when a certain British gentleman's cool hand stopped me.

"You need to stop." His gaze burned on my skin, I could feel his pity. I don't need pity.

"I just need to finish the closet."

"No, go to bed."

I was a numb mess, but I'll be damned if I'm going to give up now. "No, I'm cleaning. We leave tomorrow, don't we? Help or go and talk to your country, damn it."

"I'm just trying to help, why are you getting so angry?"

"Why the hell do you think I'm mad? I have to leave my mom and dad, you didn't say a damn thing when Kat was talking shit about me. I don't want to go, I want to be normal, I want to stay. I understand that you think that I'm a personification or some crap, but I don't know! I mean, it makes sense, it really does. But I don't want it to change, I don't want to be in the middle of a war and to be in danger all the damn time!"

My hands busied themselves with more organizing and such, until everything was put away. England would hand me random drawers and clothes, and I placed them in their proper spot. Luckily, none of the drawers and cabinets broke, so I wouldn't have to replace them.

When I finished everything in my closet, I went over to my bedroom door that lay on the ground in splinters. With a small groan, I pushed it up to lean on the wall, out of everyone's way.

"Thanks for breaking my door down, I really appreciate it."

England scoffed, "You're welcome. Let me know which others you don't like, I'll break those too."

"Look who's a sarcastic shit now. Your sass would have been nice a few hours ago." I straightened my back, and put down the pillow that had fallen on the floor back onto my bed.

"I save the best for last, my lady." England stood up fully and faced me head on.

"Now are you going with the whole gentleman spiel? Are you kidding me?"

"Ah, but I have always been this polite, love." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it even messier.

"Not in your pirate days. Must I mention the many disagreements you had with Spain? I mean, the defeat of the Spanish Armada is something that's very present on my mind. Just so you know, good sir." I put emphasis on the sir with a sarcastic and condescending tone.

"My pirate days are over. I believe that much shows in my behavior."

"Really? The way you act around France, America, Russia, and literally everyone else kinda shows that that's not true."

"What proof do you have?"

"Any Hetalia episode with you in it. Seriously." I crossed my hands over my chest, glaring at the nation.

England took a step towards me, a small smile on his face. "Canada happened to hear you singing a song in German and Japanese. You wouldn't happen to be on the Axis' side, would you?"

"Absolutely not. Just because I happen to like Germany's character songs doesn't make me a part of their cause. Besides, Neo-Nazis are fucking crazy."

"Neo?"

"New. After World War two, Nazis were sorta crushed, but they still survived. Now they're called Neo-Nazis, like new Nazis. It's insane; actually, let me clarify. They are insane."

"Interesting. So the Allies win?"

"You'll have to see for yourself."

"You were wearing a shirt with Japan, Italy, and Germany on it yesterday. Do they draw your interest?"

I raised my eyebrow. Wow, he really wanted to know if I was a Nazi, didn't he? "Yes, as people and as countries. German is my favorite language, but that doesn't mean that I support anything they did around that time. Japanese is handy when you like as many animes as I do, but that doesn't mean that I think the Nanking Massacre was justified. Italian is pretty, but that doesn't mean that I would assist Germany. Romanian has to be another of my favorites, but… Actually, never mind. Romania is good, they hated the soldiers."

"I get it."

"Awesome, I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight. I'll come later, I have some things to clear up with Canada."

"Cool beans."

England left, and I changed into PJs. After I was ready for bed, I walked over to the freshly made mattress and pulled back the dark sheets. Once I slid under them, I fell into a deep, dark hole some call sleep.

 _You won't be enough._

 _You can't do anything to help them._

 _Kat was right, you're an unstable mess._

 _Your boy crush doesn't care about you._

"No, you're wrong! He's still here. He hasn't left, not yet." I was terrified. The voice was lying, stretching the truth.

 _He will. He's only around because he needs you._

 _You know it's true…_

I woke with a start, heart hammering in my chest. I frantically looked around for England, but he was nowhere to be found. Was the voice right? Had he left? I groaned when I reached for my phone. I wanted to know what time it was, I hated waking up late. Wait, weren't we going to the other dimension today!?

A rush of garbled thoughts made their way through my sleep deprived brain. When I looked on my phone, I barely registered that it was ten o'clock in the morning, instead going by the opened window in the corner of my bedroom to guess the time.

"SHIT!" I shot up and ran to my closet to get ready, throwing on jeans and a plaid shirt, DCs, and a black scarf. I brushed my hair as I ran out of the room to get my phone, jamming it in my pocket. My backpack was slung over my shoulder, one strap on and the other hanging loose. I stacked my suitcases on top of each other, making sure to click in the straps so they wouldn't fall.

"Damn, these are heavy." I rolled them to my door, where I left them to sit while I looked for the others. "Arthur? England? Mein Gott, where the hell are you?"

The three rooms closest to my room were all empty, including Kat's. Her blue travelling bag was on her bed, stiff from being overpacked. At least she was still here, so it was unlikely that England left.

Panic started to creep up on me. What if they left, and Kat just so happened to forget her bag or something? What if they decided they didn't need me? "Calm down, he said you're Earth or some shit. You'll be fine." But would I? I tried desperately to calm myself down, but the only thing on my mind was how they didn't need me. Kat didn't even want me, so who was to say that she hadn't convinced England and Canada?

No. I had to stay strong, nobody wants a weak link with them. I had to get myself under control.

A few deep breaths later, my nerves dissipated into bad anxiety. I could deal with that though, right? Anxiety wasn't that big of an issue, was it? I vaguely remember reading an article that said that you could have a panic attack from anxiety if it got really bad. "I don't think it would go that far, I'll be fine," I reassured myself.

With another deep breath, I pushed myself off the wall. My backpack was uncomfortable against my sore back, but I had to check downstairs to see if maybe they were just eating or something.

I jogged down the stairs to the kitchen where my mom was quietly eating cereal. She was wearing pink pajamas, which is uncharacteristic of her, she was usually ready before the sun came up.

"Morning, mom. Have you seen England?"

She looked up from her food to study my face for a quick second before looking back down. "He's in the backyard with the quiet one. He said to tell you he's got the spell ready or something like that." She looked so sad, and dark bags were under her eyes, too. Whether or not I was adopted, it was my duty as her daughter to cheer her up. (I was the one to make her like this, anyway.)

"Mom, I'm not leaving because of you, it's quite the opposite actually. I love you guys, I'm not mad. To be honest, I've always kind of known that I was adopted, it was the… um. Yah, you know, right?"

I don't think that my speech would make her look more crestfallen, but it did. "I know, honey. I just can't help but feel like it's my fault that you're going…" Wait, why did she feel like it was her fault? I found out after I was forced to agree to leave. Forced? Was that why I'm leaving? Ugh, my thoughts were too deep to understand this early in the morning.

"Stop. I'm not going because of you, and I love you, k? Don't think otherwise. It would be great to stay. Unfortunately, I'm 'Mother Earth' or some shit, so I can't. Capiche?"

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips, to my great relief. This meant she was happier, right? I sure hope so. "Capiche. Sorry, honey."

"It's fine, mom. Where's dad?" I scrunched up my forehead in question.

"He's upstairs, he didn't want to get up. Said he's too tired." He was never too tired, both my parents were early birds, they barely needed sleep. He was lying, probably just didn't want to face me. I'll make sure to hug him before I leave, then.

"Okay, I'm gonna go talk to big brows, he's probably pissed I slept in so late."

England was in his black cape and his star wand was in his hand as he was chanting something. Canada and Kumajirou were nowhere to be seen, and Kat was at the other end of my backyard, looking thoroughly pissed. What the hell crawled up her ass?

I quietly moved to the right of the Englishman, careful to not distract him.

"Dumbledoratheexplorer-"

So the series had it right? The Great Britain actually did start spells like that? An imaginary scene of Dora appearing as a result of the spell popped in my mind and I couldn't help the small giggle.

"Hola! I'm Dora, and this is my friend Boots! What's your name?"

*Cue confused and flustered England*

"AH! Who are you? Why are you here!?"

*Scrambles around frantically for spell book*

It was a second long clip that my mind just had to share with me, but the giggle quickly turned into full blown laughter. What if it actually happened, though? I could only imagine how the country would react, but my gosh would it be hilarious.

"Cole!? What are you laughing at?" Luckily, England didn't look as mad as I thought he would, but he was probably still shocked that I had snuck up on him.

"Dora…" I started laughing again. I couldn't help it, it was funny!

His face softened when I laughed again. "I don't get why you're laughing, but we leave just as soon as I finish this spell. You should go get your bags."

I giggled, the flash of Dora confused still fresh in my mind. "Kay, I'll be back in a second. Sorry for interrupting you."

"It's quite alright. Just hurry up."

I was giggling the whole way up the stairs, but stopped when I reached my room and grabbed my stuff.

"I haven't said anything to my dad yet, huh?" I placed my bags just above the staircase and ran to my parents room where I heard soft music playing. I should probably slow down and say goodbye to my family, they had raised me for seventeen years, right?

I opened the door and poked my head into my parent's bedroom. My dad was in bed with a box of tissues next to him as classical music played on the radio across the room.

"Hey, I came to let you know I'm leaving, and that I love ya."

He shuffled from under the sheets to stand up, clad in flannel sheets, probably because it's freezing outside. He had dark eye circles, his black hair was everywhere, and he desperately needed to shave.

"Cole? Hey honey." My dad shifted his feet awkwardly as he tried to avoid my gaze, which did nothing to help my guilt. Was he like this because of me? The answer, of course, was yes.

You know that annoying lump that forces its way into your throat when you want to cry? Yeah, that happened.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

He shook his head and shrugged. "It's not your fault, I can't blame you for wanting to have your own life."

My shoulders shook as I tried to hold back the tears, I didn't want to cry in front of my dad. "Okay… Look, I'm still sorry. I love you and Mom and I don't regret anything, but I really have to go." Damn me for being such a damn coward! Why couldn't I just talk and not try to get away from the situation?

"I love you Cole, and you will always be my daughter." My dad's eyes were now on me, and it was obvious he was holding back tears, too. In a quick flash, I was hugging him, and my dad was hugging me too as we both cried our eyes out. It would have been a touching sight to see if we weren't both drowning in sorrow.

Shit, didn't England tell me to hurry up? I pulled myself away from my dad.

"Look, I've really got to go."

"Bye." His whole face was red, tears still streaming down his face. I have only seen my dad cry once, and it was when grandma died. If I stayed another second, I wouldn't ever leave.

I forced myself out the door to the stairs and grabbed my bags on the way down. The rough carpet was unforgiving as I tore down. I practically tripped, luckily catching myself on the handrail before I fell. I sure was tripping a lot on them lately, huh?

When I was at the bottom of the evilness and breathing heavily, my grip iron tight on the black handle of my suitcase and guilt fully setting itself in me, I took one last look at the second floor before I turned away and walked down the hallway to the kitchen.

My mom wasn't at the table, she was outside talking to Kat, who just so happened to be crying. I faintly heard England chanting in the background, a black haze starting to set itself in the air. It looked like it was working.

My hand shook as I reached to open the large sliding glass doors. I didn't want to leave because my parents were here. I wanted to go because there was so much to explore, so much to be learned, I had barely even seen where I had had the opportunity to go.

If England was right, then I really was the Earth, and it was my duty to be in Hetalia. If he was wrong, I had given up my whole life over a hunch.

But, if he was right, then I was so much more than I thought I was. Being found in flowers? Surrounded by animals? It was impossible, save for the explanation that he was correct in his assumptions. I know England's right. I could feel it in my bones, the 'yes' coursing through my veins.

Of course, it didn't stop the doubts, if anything; it made the consequences that much worse. How much was I giving up for a guess?

I was giving up my life, my right to live. I was trading my soul away, figuratively. I was losing everything.

And I knew it.

I steadied myself. I had to go, I had no choice, I knew that. Even if I wasn't a personification, I was still someone from the future, someone who watched the country's lives for entertainment. I was a large source of information, someone that could potentially turn the war around and ensure that a side won or lost. But what if the Axis caught me? What if they found out and tortured me for information?

Like any other normal high schooler or generally curios history fanatic, I had learned what both sides had done to prisoners of war, the terrible acts that were barely breathed out for fear of rebuttal. Allies and Axis alike had done terrible things, things that even now were scarce to find. And yet, my school had taught them. Should I thank them or curse their very existence?

My heartbeat quickened, anxiety still very much present from the scare I had this morning. But now was not the time to think about torture, it was the time to act on what would be devastation among both myself and my loving parents.

I wiped all traces of hesitation from my mind, intent on making it out the door and into another world without falling apart like a pansy. With a quick motion, I slid open the door and pulled along my bags, careful of the metal trim.

I'm pretty sure that I still had tears streaming down my face, and no doubt that my eyes were puffy. My mom stopped talking and turned to me, appalled when she saw that I looked like Death had visited me and told me how I was murdered (or something, I don't know).

"I assume you talked with your dad?"

I nodded and stared daggers into the cement below my feet. Damn you, England. This is your entire fucking fault.

"Honey, I'm so sorry."

I didn't dare look up. I know I'll start crying again and plain out tell the git "no" when he tries to make me leave. "It's okay, mom. I love you guys, okay?" She let out a shaky breath and I was pulled into another hug. Her skin was cold from the chilly fall air, the small breeze whisking past us not helping.

"I love you too." My mom smelled like honey and flowers. Her hair was soft against my cheek, her pajamas warming me like a blanket. I was going to miss her. She let go of me like I was fire and took a few steps back to lean against the wall of the patio. "You should be going; it looks like England has the portal ready."

I couldn't move, I was stuck in place. I was going to leave and give up my parents. I was never going to make it back. I was going to be alone except for my now bitchy friend. How the hell do you react to something like this? It never happens in real life, does it? Does it?

"Cole, we have to go."

There's that word again, 'go'. Why? Did I really have to leave? Was I really needed? In this dimension, the Allies didn't get help, did they? Not that we know of, anyway…

Kat jumped in the black hole first. Her woops and screams could barely be heard over the quickly rushing wind that I hadn't noticed.

"Cole, it's your turn!" England had to shout to be heard.

I took another step forward before saying 'fuck it' and jumping in, immediately letting go of my bags when the air rushing past my face had me screaming like a madman. I was terrified.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:**

 **To Zaaze: Yeah, I know. Honestly, I would choose the Axis too, but in this story, it's going to be a bit more realistic than the anime. The dark parts will be in here, so I chose the Allies, for obvious reasons. Another thing that kinda had me choose the Allies was that in the anime dub, Germany makes a few jokes about gassing someone, and that just isn't right. So even if the dark parts are left out, they are still acknowledged in the anime. So in my mind, why not have everything? And you said to update soon, so here's your chapter!**

 **Hey y'all! Chapter 7 is here, and while most of it is the old chapter six and seven, it's got some wonderful improvements and more explanations. I hope you enjoy and make sure to review what you think!**

"SHITTING MARSHMALLOWS AND FLUFFY AAAANIMAAAALS!"

Blues, purples, yellows and blacks surrounded me and flew by. My hair was flying everywhere, hitting me in the face. (It stung like a bitch, by the way.) The bright and dark colors together made me nauseous, so I closed my eyes as my stomach dropped just as quickly as I was falling.

"I HATE YOU ENGLAND!"

I could barely hear his laugh as I fell. That asshole, he didn't bother to warn me that it would be like this. He probably did it to piss me off or something…

Luckily, we landed like nothing had happened; hair was perfectly in place, bags at our feet. I could see my eyes pulse with anxiety and adrenaline. I could even feel my own damn heart pumping. Anxiety clawed at my system, the only thing keeping it at bay was searching for something familiar. As a result, my purple eyes frantically searched for green or brown irises, not calming until they landed on England's emerald colored eyes.

"You bastard, you scared the shit out of me. I will have my revenge!" Adrenaline was high in my blood vessels and I was most defiantly not thinking straight. England's sarcastic face was comparable to a bitch face, it was annoying as hell.

"Naturally."

Someone cleared their throat.

"Who's with you, Angleterre? We were holding this meeting to find where you are, but I suppose that now it is unnecessary." Judging by the fact that it was a heavy French accent and the French word for England, I suppose it was France that spoke.

"We just fucking freefell and he laughed! I mean, what the shit? Not even Jefferson would be that bad, even to Hamilton, and… You have no idea what I'm talking about because I never mentioned Hamilton before. Shit."

"No, I can't say I've had the pleasure of hearing about this "Hamilton". You are very foul mouthed for a lady, don't you think?"

Shit. I had just talked to France. And I cursed. And everything was animated. Shit. SHIT. SHIT! I laughed awkwardly as I turned around to face four very confused and slightly shocked nations. America had a hamburger half eaten hanging out of his mouth, China and France looked amused, and Russia was just standing there, pipe in hand.

England was the first to make a move, since I'm sure I looked like I just saw a ghost. I doubt Kat was in a much better situation than me, since I hadn't heard anything from my side, where I felt someone's gaze burning into my very soul like the entirety of the world's problems were my fault.

"Where the hell did you come from!? And what do you know about Hamilton?"

America had gotten over his shock quite quickly, I'm impressed.

I waved my fingers in front of me like I was a middle schooler doing a trick at a talent show. "It's magic, just like Hammie. Lol, just kidding. It's a Broadway Musical about the founding fathers, focusing on good old Alex."

"Who are you?" Ah, China. Straight to the point as expected.

"The one who just cursed incessantly is Cole, the girl on her right is Kat. They should be helpful allies." His cape and wand were magically gone; I suspect they were just in his pockets. England looked like he was tired of the world and everything in it when he gave his explanation, even glaring at America for a second as if to dare him to say anything.

The room was silent and I swear I heard a cricket chirp once or twice.

And then all hell broke loose.

"DUDE! They're hot!" That comment was by our lovely hero, America. He probably just said it to irritate England, who was ever the gentleman. (Not. I'm too angry to agree to anything else.)

"Really, America? That's… just. Wow." I rolled my eyes.

"What are they doing here, aru?" China looked questioningly at England, then not so subtly directing his glare at Kat and me. What had we done wrong?

"Where did you come from? Please elaborate. I am confused." Russia's hold on the Magic Metal Pipe of Pain was tightening, if it weren't for the gloves, I'm sure we would be able to see that his knuckles were white.

"Yo! Russia, chill, dude. Seriously." Russia seemed to ignore me, but his ever tightening grip around the pipe let me know he did hear me.

England shook his head, glaring at me as he did so. What did I do besides curse about him to France? Nothing! (Much.) "I brought them here from another universe. It's not like we're doing very well in the war, and we do need the help, don't we?"

Everyone's gazes immediately shifted to my face, completely ignoring Kat. Lucky bastard. I could feel my cheeks burning, probably bright red. In that moment, I realized how much I hated England.

Just to help you along, I hate him with every fiber of my soul. Every. Damn. Fiber.

I laughed awkwardly again and scratched the back of my head. I've never been so embarrassed in my whole life, and England was undoubtedly doing it to get back at me for what I said a few seconds ago. Asshole.

America's laugh is so annoying and loud, the anime doesn't do it justice. I want to claw my ears off to make it stop. "HAHAHAHAHAH! Dude, we don't need chicks to help us! The hero will totally win!" DID… DID HE JUST SAY WHAT I THOUGHT HE SAID? Or was I hearing wrong? He didn't need chicks to help him? I hate it when guys say shit like that.

"I'm assuming Pearl Harbor has happened? Otherwise America wouldn't be here, right?" I was aiming my question at England. I was going to show them exactly how much they needed me, and Kat.

"Yes, it happened last week."

"So today's around the fourteenth?" If I remember correctly, the attack was on the seventh of December. I had to do a project on WW2 in seventh grade, we were supposed to choose battles. I chose Pearl Harbor, it had always fascinated me, despite some claiming it was cut and dry, there was so much more to it from the point of view of Japan and America.

"Fifteenth, if I'm correct." Everyone else was silent, simply staring at me while I was talking. America's face had dropped. I think England knew what I was doing, he simply stood there, answering my questions while I proved my point.

"You thought the planes were yours, you were wrong. 2,403 died, 1,176 were wounded. Three cruisers, three destroyers, an anti-aircraft training ship, and one minelayer were either damaged or sunk. You declared war on the eighth, the next day." My voice cracked at the end. I remember learning about them, I cried when I read the names of everyone that died. It broke my heart that war had casualties, I hate death and I always will. "You know, I cried when I saw how many people there were. They didn't deserve it, they were good human beings, they didn't do anything to deserve the death they got." I didn't realize I had a tear running down my face until England wiped it off with the back of his hand.

"Oh, thanks Iggy."

"Don't call me that."

I ignored him, the names I memorized playing in front of me like a tape. I was the only one to be able to name every person that had died, every person injured. My teacher had freaked out when she heard me recite them for an hour. I don't think she thought it was possible for an eleven year old to know so much. "I know all their names. I thought it would honor them if I learned them. It took me a while, but I did it. You should have seen my teacher's face."

China and Russia gaped at me while France gave England a glance, probably to see how well he was taking it. America just stood there, probably in shock that someone cared that much. Nobody made a move to comfort him, I doubt they ever had.

"But a female can't do any of that, because it's 1941, and women are expected to stay inside. Are y'all proud or what? 'Cause I'm pretty sure there are a few countries that happen to be women, not mentioning your nyos. But sorry America, it shouldn't have happened. You get your justice, though."

"I can still hear the bombs dropping. It's painful, ya know?" America's voice was filled with heartache; I think I even saw a tear or two in his eyes. I don't blame him, it must have been chilling to go through that alone. I wanted to go and hug the poor nation and cry with him. I settled for giving him a warm smile and understanding.

"Yeah."

And just like that, the moment was gone and the bubbling buffoon that the nations hated was back. "You guys can totally stay, the hero doesn't mind it at all!" Everyone groaned, including England and Kat.

I felt shuffling to my right and someone breathe into my ear. "Showoff." Well, it seems Kat and I are still on good terms, then. (Sarcasm.) If this stupid rivalry still continued, I'd have to make sure we lived separately and not visited each other.

"I suppose two girls cannot hurt us."

"Gee, thanks China." He huffed in annoyance at my obvious win.

"Did comrade Britain tell you who we are?" Russia's pipe was still out, but he wasn't grabbing on to it, he was leaning against it. He was wearing his signature tan coat and pins, scarf and gloves. He looked just like in the show, down to the last detail. Which was weird.

"No, actually. Kat and I already knew."

"Different universe. You guys are in an anime." Kat played with her thumbs while she explained a bit more. "It's called Hetalia, which basically translates from Japanese to useless Italy. Um, Italy is the main character, along with the Axis, then the Allies, which is you guys." She looked really nervous, continually moving her weight form one foot to the other and fidgeting.

"It focuses on a couple of events: World War one, World War two, the Cold War, and modern days." I chipped in, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

America seemed to take it the best, which seemed odd to me and understanding at the same time. China seemed to be suspicious and Russia leaned heavier onto the pipe. France stayed still and eyed us, not in a pervy way like I expected him to, but it seemed like he was trying to figure us out.

"We win the war, da?" Russia seemed to contemplate what we told them at least.

That question, though. Surely they knew we couldn't tell them? Doesn't that destroy time or something?

"We can't tell you. I'd love to, and I'm sure Cole would love to, but everything I know about time warns us against that. We can help you win certain battles, though! Sorry." Apparently Kat was quite talkative despite being heart-hammeringly nervous.

Glares all around, suspicious ones. Do they not think about their questions before muttering them out? Okay, I didn't, but still.

The intense eyes on us were making me want to move around and lose energy I didn't have while clutching onto England for dear life. No, I had to stay strong. How many intimidating people would I have to appear in front of while I was here? Lots, probably. And if I'm intimidated by these dudes, *nervous laughter*, then how would I act in front of Germany knowing how many people Nazi Germany killed? Wait, did this mean that Germany was the Nazi version of himself? Was it a lot like multiple personality disorder?

Ugh, I could probably blame England for this, it's not like it's his fault I'm here or anything *sarcasm*.

How could I get back at him? I could throw all of his tea in a nearby harbor, sing the American National Anthem, start muttering about freedom, or all of the above. I'm sure the wonderful USA would love to help, I'll have to ask him for ideas. I really like the throwing the tea in the harbor idea though.

I could imagine it now, the look on his face when he sees his precious Earl Grey floating in the water. Sweet, sweet revenge.

"Cole?" I had been staring at the ceiling when England called me back to Earth. "Yes?" I snapped my eyes to his, really not expecting what I saw. His blonde hair was plastered to his head, and he was dripping wet. Kat was wet too, but everything and everyone else was dry.

There were grey clouds in the room around the ceiling, clustering above the two's heads. It was still raining above them, but the really freaky part, (I know) was that the water didn't seem to be touching the floor. It was still soaking them but there wasn't a puddle or even a drop of water on the floor, even the water that was dripping off of England and Kat disappeared before it fell on the carpet.

I was dry and there weren't any clouds above me, but they were everywhere else. Probably a reason to freak out, right about… now.

"Um…"

"Dude! This is so freaking cool!"

"What are you, aru?"

"This is something special, non?"

And Russia was just watching me, which had to be the most unnerving part. Panicking, I searched around the room for something that could have caused this. I came up with nothing except for that I was actually the Earth and I did this accidentally. Great.

"Apparently I'm Earth or something, I don't know. Did I do this?"

"OF COURSE YOU DID, YOU BLOODY GIT! LOOK AT ME, I'M SOAKING WET!" He was really mad, but it was kind of adorable. Uhhhh, I'm gonna ignore that.

"I know. You're so cute, like a little flustered penguin. Aww! I wonder if this is what you look like when you try to swim." I smirked. Where the hell was this coming from? I'm never this confident. Faintly, I heard America and France snickering in the background.

China was shaking his head disdainfully while muttering about immature westerners. Russia was laughing too, it was just a bone chilling giggle that scared the living shit out of me. So, yeah. Like hell I'm going to look behind me.

England blushed a bright crimson and sputtered out a very intelligent comeback. "I'm not a penguin! And I already told you, I can swim!"

"You didn't say you weren't cute."

"Get a room!" America was barely able to say anything past the fit of giggles he had burst into, but he somehow managed.

"We are in a room." Tomatoes have nothing on England's face. You know how in the anime, when people were really mad or embarrassed or something, their eyes turn white and their faces red? Yeah, that's what Iggy looked like right now.

"I have nothing against flirting, but this is serious." France was shaking his head. Wow, the king of flirting and perverted comments was getting us to stop? This is a bit OOC, isn't it?

"Yeah, the Frenchie is right."

"Thanks America, you're real helpful. And since when is France of all people against flirting? I mean, who burnt that baguette?" I scoffed.

Why couldn't we keep talking like this? I don't want to be a personification. I want to be human and go home to my parents. I want to cry and tell my mom and dad how much I missed them in the half hour I was gone and that I'll never leave them alone again. I just want to go home, away from imaginary worlds were everything goes. I don't want to be here.

Of course, I had to can it all up and pretend everything was okay. Conceal don't feel, right? Why was it me that had to be here? Couldn't Kat have been enough? I should have put up a fight. I should have talked to Canada-

"Where's Canada?" I didn't see him go down the wormhole. Was he still in our world? Did he come earlier? Did he disappear? Wait, had I forgotten about him like everyone else?

"He came first with Kumajirou. I can't believe you forgot about him."

"Well aren't you a can of peaches? What the hell crawled up your ass, Kat?"

She sneered at me but stayed where she was. "You and your stupid self-righteousness. You have more now than I had in my whole life! You at least have a family, you have England. You're even the personification of the whole damn earth! You take everything for granted and act like you lost it all. If anything, you gained something. Why are you so freaking blind, Cole!?"

Kat's jealous? Color me surprised. I didn't really have anything- no. She's right, to an extent.

"I'm self-righteous? Do you not see yourself? You've been going around and yelling at me, but I invited you in the family I didn't know was never mine. Everything is crashing around me and I have nothing I can do about it. I just lost my parents. I just lost my house, my life, everything. Apparently, I even lost you. I don't have a family, and I certainly don't have England. You have Canada, you have me. No, actually. You had me, you pretentious bitch."

Everyone's eyes widened at my outburst, but I continued. Kat stood rigid in anger, her fists clenched by her side.

"I went from everything to nothing, and you expect me to be grateful? Grateful that I lost my life to get something I really don't want? You do know what this job requires of me, right? Look around you, we are in World War two. If the comics were right and the countries really do feel pain when they're bombed or attacked or hurt, how do you think I'm going to feel when whole nations are wiped off the face of the earth? When millions of Jews are killed? When cities and towns and people are burned? When armies are shot down, when people are tortured for information? Think. Look around you."

As I spoke, I could feel the pangs in my chest. I could feel my stomach tightening and hear screams and see names of the dead in front of me. I was so angry, I couldn't see straight. The clouds got blacker and rain full on poured, wetting everyone and gathering on the floor.

"War means death. Death stabs everyone it can't touch. I already feel the knife, and we've only been here for less than half an hour. Don't assume what you don't know."

"Calm down." England tried to take a step forward, but I quickly side stepped him and walked out of the room, slamming the huge doors shut as I left.

My vision clouded with angry tears as I walked down the unfamiliar hallway that twisted and turned every which way. Straight down I could see a door leading to the front of the building where clear skies and sunshine beckoned, so that's where I walked.

I pushed open the glass door and stepped outside. It was chilly and the slight breeze rushed past my face in a welcome change. The clouds seemed to dissipate as I stepped outside, it was like the weather slightly changed to what I needed but stayed the same as to not bring suspicion. The clear skies were probably because of me now that I think about it; I love rain but not when I'm upset.

"Everything was normal a week ago." I muttered to myself.

There was a stone path that led to a garden on the side of the building, so of course I followed it. When I was halfway down the path, I came across a wooden bench.

My legs were kind of sore cause I had briskly walked out of the building, (I was always more tired after jogging or walking fast then if I was to walk or run normally), so I sat down. It was oddly comfortable, and combined with the cool air against my cheeks, I shut down.

It must have been an hour later when I felt something fuzzy brush up against my back. At first I thought it was a spider or a bug or something, but upon further inspection, the fur was found to be blue.

"Hello, what are you?" A creature came out from behind the bench I was sitting on and faced me. And it was a unicorn. No biggy, right?

The unicorn was three feet tall, like a pony. It had an adorable little horn on its head no taller than a pencil, and its mane was light blue against a navy coat. It neighed and I think I melted into a puddle on the floor due to the cuteness.

"What's your name?" It neighed again and brushed against my hand like it wanted to be pet. In compliance, I scratched the back of its ears. "Do you not have a name?" The unicorn shook it's head no. "Would you like one?"

He/she jumped up on its hind legs and neighed again (what's with the neighing?). Apparently it really wanted a name. I tapped my chin in concentration while I tried to think of something that would please the little creature. "Do you like Rainbow Dash? You look kinda like her…" It snorted and shook its head.

"Okay, are you a boy or a girl?" The unicorn went to the flowers near us and nudged a blue flower, probably to tell me that it was a boy. "Okay, so you're a boy? I can't say that colors are the best way to express your gender considering that all colors should be gender neutral, but you can't talk, so I guess it's okay…"

He sat patiently at my feet while I muttered different names that might work for it. "Do you like Cotton?" Surprisingly, he nodded.

When a unicorn takes a shine to you and agrees to be named Cotton, you can't really help but grin. "Well then Cotton, I'm Cole. Nice to meet you!" He neighed and nudged by hand with his nose so that my palm was on top of his eyes, my fingers just behind his ears. I scratched a part I know is sensitive in animals (the area between the neck and the ear) and he sighed contently.

"Hey, would you happen to know how I can see you? I thought that only England, Romania, Norway and Finland could see y'all. Huh." Cotton didn't say anything while I talked, he just laid on the warm rocks at our feet while I pet him.

"Okay, I'm just gonna get this out of my system. So first, I'm at home, right? I have to get ready for school and all that. When I'm done I go to pick up my friend, Kat. When I get there, she's crying..."

I continued to talk, eventually getting to what had happened today.

"So I jump in, and it's a bunch of colors that make me feel sick. We were just freefalling, too! I didn't want to puke or embarrass myself, but I couldn't say anything. Then we landed here, and it's really hard to adjust because everything is different. It's all cartoonified, there's no detail! It's fine to watch it on a screen, but to live it, it's so hard. So Kat and I fought, I made it rain, then I ran out here and met you. Make sense?"

Cotton whinnied and poked me with his horn. "What is it?" His brown eyes narrowed at the corner of the building just ten feet from us. "Is someone there?" I called out, careful to not disturb the unicorn more than it already had been.

America rounded the corner, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Hey, sorry, England sent me. What are you pet- AHHH! IS THAT A UNICORN!?" He jumped a good foot in the air when he noticed the animal.

"You can see Cotton?" I raised my eyebrow in question. I thought it was just a select number of countries and people that could see them. It was a surprise to me that I could see Cotton, I don't really have magic, so I don't understand how America can see it.

"Uh, yeah. It's actually a unicorn, right?" He was walking slowly to us, one small step at a time.

"Yeah." How come he could see them? Did something happen in the meeting?

"DUDE! That's so cool! I can't wait to tell everyone. HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH!" Have I mentioned his laugh made me want to claw my ears off? I did? Good, because it's true.

"If you tell anyone, especially England, I will pull your Nantucket." I put my hands protectively on the small horse in front of me while glaring at the American. He gasped in horror when he realized I wasn't kidding. I knew exactly what the cowlick did, too.

"You wouldn't dare!" In a mock offence, America placed his hand on his heart. Texas glimmered in the sunlight while the USA dared me to say that I would.

I grinned, this was more enjoyable than it should be. I can see why people liked to mess with him. "I will, even knowing what it does." He paled, dropped his hand and backed up. "Yo-you wouldn't…" America stuttered out.

My smile widened, much to his dismay. "It's fine, I won't if you behave. Sit down." I patted the seat to my right, an invitation for him to sit by me. America hesitantly moved to sit, opting to stay as far away from me as the bench would allow. The action stung a little, I had just been joking.

"Can I pet the little dude?" America motioned to Cotton. "I've never seen a unicorn before and well… I though Arthur was kidding when he said he could see creatures. Either that or he really had lost it."

I frowned. It was all good and fun when they made fun of each other through the screen, cause you thought it wasn't real, but when faced with the cruel reality, it hurt. I was bullied all my life, after all. "His name is Cotton. You can pet him if he wants you to, I guess."

I took my hand off of the horse and America gasped. "Where did he go?" What was he talking about? Cotton was still here. I touched the horse. "He's back!"

When I pulled my hand off Cotton, America couldn't see him anymore. Interesting. "You can only see him while I'm touching him. That's kind of weird… but cool." At least it explained how the young nation was able to see him.

"Ah." America placed his hand on Cotton's back, fully expecting him to jerk away. To both of our surprises, Cotton moved so he was closer to America. The nation had such a huge goofy grin on his face that I couldn't help but smile in response. He looked so happy and peaceful, despite what had just happened to him earlier.

Thinking about my outburst(s) weighed my heart down. When I had said that I didn't have England, his face had dropped and he looked so hurt. Did he really want to be friends with a screw up like me? All I've done so far was irritate him.

"Hey, America?"

"Hm?"

I sighed heavily and dropped my shoulders. "I'm sorry about inside. I shouldn't have brought that up. It's just that you said you didn't need us and-". He cut me off with his own explanation.

"Nah, it's fine. I just needed to hear how you can help. Besides, heroes can get over stuff like that pretty quickly!"

At least he didn't laugh.

"Thanks. I just feel bad, ya know?" He didn't respond. We stayed in silence for a bit, but curiosity got the better of me and I just had to ask.

"Can you tell me about yourself? I know that there's way more to you than what you show. America isn't that stupid of a country as others say it is, and they're half as annoying as everyone else. It's pretty great once you get past the terrible government and sucky election candidates."

What? I figured that he should have a sneak peak in the future, he deserved it. That annoying stuck up English prat should have gotten me, not his awesome younger brother. (Are they still brothers? I don't know.)

"Terrible government?"

"Ignore that." I chuckled hollowly as I tried and failed to cover up my bitterness.

"What year are you from?" This is a basic question I don't doubt everyone else will ask.

"2016. You come a long way." Cell phones, energy powered cars, solar panels, cell towers? Lots of great stuff.

"Are there flying cars? Can people hover off the ground? Do you wear weird clothes?" Well someone was getting excited and purposely shifting the conversation away from themselves. I didn't know he was so manipulative.

"Non, no, and nihil. And don't shift this around." (Translation: Latin. Nihil is no.)

"Aww, come on dude! Tell me about the future!"

"No." He huffed in annoyance with my answer but thankfully started answering my questions.

"What do you like being called, America, USA, or Alfred?" He looked a little shocked I knew his human name, but answered nonetheless.

"Hmm. Alfred in public but America everywhere else. It's the same with almost every other country."

I didn't know he could be so calm. Was his normal personality like this or was he just toning it down for me? "Um, what's your favorite superhero?" He always talked about being a hero and he loved comics, so why not ask him?

"Believe it or not, all of them. I'm not partial."

What about Marmite? Was he actually afraid of it? I'm not going to ask him, I think I'll use it as a prank in the near future.

"Hey, are you always like this? You're calmer then when I met you inside." I raised my brow. He was being very quiet and only talked when I asked him questions. It's really uncharacteristic of America to act this way.

He laughed. It sounded forced, like he was too exhausted to laugh like he normally does. "It was a very stressful debate. I'm just tired, and my military is training right now, which isn't really helping my state of exhaustion." That makes sense, I guess. That would also account for him acting all mature, which I didn't think was actually possible.

"Are you okay?" His blue eyes snapped up to meet mine. They were heartbreaking, filled with worry and unshed tears. I really wanted to hug him, but I didn't know how without disturbing Cotton or taking my hand off the unicorn.

"No, actually. Thanks for asking, but I don't really want to talk about it." And then it was gone, like he had gotten his energy back. Darn. "But I'm the hero, so you don't have to worry about me! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"No, stop laughing! It hurts my ears!" I desperately clutched at my ears in a futile attempt to make the screeching noise stop. America ignored me and kept laughing, but it was so obviously forced it physically pained me, not talking about the ear pain by the way.

When the he stopped, Cotton got up from under America's hand and nudged my leg. He then motioned his horn behind him, like he was leaving. "Okay, bye Cotton! See ya later, k?" The unicorn calmly pulled himself away from my palm and headed off.

"Bye little dude!" America waved at the unicorn, until he was out of sight.

"We should probably head inside." If Cotton wasn't here, and the fake personality of my nation was back, then why should I hang out outside anymore? There was no use to it, it was a waste of time and I should be in the meeting.

"Okay dudette. England probably wants to talk to you anyway; he was kind of bummed when you left."

We got up and headed off the path to the front of the building while we idly chatted. "Hey, I have a song I think you would like. As a plus, England would hate it!" I grinned evilly as I reached for my phone.

America's eyes shone under Texas when he saw the screen light up. "Whoa! What is that?"

"The future. It's Hamilton, the thing I was talking about earlier. I figure you'd have known Hammie personally, so you'd enjoy this. But don't tell England, he'll try and break my phone, especially since King George has a couple of songs." I clicked on my Google Play songs until I reached the desired song.

"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"

It's a fast song, so I struggled to keep up as America's eyes widened.

"The ten-dollar founding father without a father, got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter, by being a self-starter by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter."

"And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up. Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of, the brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter."

"Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned, our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain. Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain, and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain."

I spun, grinning while trying to slow rap. It's quite a feat if accomplished correctly, and I probably screwed up something. I also tend to mumble while singing certain parts, so that wasn't the best.

"Well, the word got around, they said, "This kid is insane, man". Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland. "Get your education, don't forget from whence you came, and the world is gonna know your name. What's your name, man?""

America followed my jerky movements with his eyes, hands in his pocket while smirking. "You know, Allen would actually really like this."

I stopped cold turkey at the mention of Allen. "What? Your 2ps are real?"

"Yeah, but we don't usually mention them cause they're super violent. I figured if you knew about our nyos, you'd know the 2ps."

The song kept going, but I ignored it.

"Why didn't Iggy tell me? His 2p is Ollie, right? And then there's Matt, and Francois, and Lutz, and Ion. Oh my gosh, I really wanna meet them!"

My hands waved as I listed off the 2p names that I knew.

"THE SHIP IS IN THE HARBOR NOW, see if you can spot him. Another immigrant, COMING UP FROM THE BOTTOM, his enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him." I stopped my fangirling to sing to my favorite part of Alexander Hamilton.

"Hehe, sorry, I tend to go from task to task." The pause button was slammed by my pointer finger right before I turned off my screen and rammed it into my pocket.

"But really, now I'm hurt than Iggy didn't tell me that Allen and Ollie are real. No offense, but they're kinda cooler than the 1ps! I'm not too crazy bout the nyos, either, it's the 2ps that get me. And the name 2p is kinda mean. Aren't they normal people? They're still parts of the country, right? They just tend to be the darker side. And human flesh cupcakes! EEE! And a baseball bat with nails, guns, and ships, and so the balance shifts. We rendezvous with Rochambeau, consolidate their gifts! We can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea. But, for this to succeed, there's someone else we need. I kn-"

"Stop, please."

"And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em drop and burn 'em up and scatter their remains, I'm Lafayette! Watch me engagin' em! Escapin' em! Enragin' em! I'm- "

"Seriously? I need the lyrics, the speed is pretty cool."

"Yeah, it is. Hold on, do you know what rap is?" If America knew, he would undoubtedly be into it.

"Nah." He shook his head.

"It's basically what I just sang. Words really quickly put together with music in the background, usually someone else making sounds. Though I feel like I'm spoiling the future for you…"

I opened the door, America following close behind. It was a large room, three couches, two desks, and a table in the middle. This wasn't counting the meeting room where I had no doubt the countries were still talking.

"So what's Allen like?"

"Um, me, but darker, vulgar, and really rude. And vegetarian."

"So they are your polar opposites then?" We walked down a white hallway.

"Yeah, and Oliver can cook."

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense then."

The dark ebony meeting door was right in front of us now, the silver handle beckoning us into the room, where chaos undoubtedly waited.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter eight! YAY! I'm so sorry for not updating right away, this took me a while because we're going through some legal issues that I'm not sure I can talk about. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me, and the story, and I hope you enjoy! And special thanks to all of my reviewers! Have a wonderful day, and stay positive, no matter how fucking shitty life is!**

With a deep breath, I pulled open the meeting room doors fully expecting the worst. Maybe a screaming England, flooded room, dead random person on the floor? I don't know, but I was expecting something not so different from what laid in front of me and America.

England and France were fighting in the corner while Russia was intimidating China with his signature "Become one with mother Russia, da?" Canada and Kat were sitting down next to each other, Kumajirou at their feet. When had Canada gotten here?

The fight between the two countries, (England and France), looked like it was going to get really bad really quickly. China seemed to have refused Russia's offer to merge, so now Russia had his pipe out and was threatening China with it. Kat and Canada were just talking amongst themselves, peacefully.

"HEY! Aren't you all supposed to be really old or something? Why are you all so immature?" I was the one that was supposed to be immature, I was the teenager! Fully grown men weren't allowed to quarrel like five year olds.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at America, then to me. Russia sat down, as did China. I then fixed my glare on England and the nation of love, or so he calls himself. England pushed France off of him into the wall and started running to us frantically. "Cole! Are you alright, love?"

Was he really asking me if I was alright when he could have come outside himself and talked to me? Was he serious, or was he just pulling my leg? I rubbed my face in mock concentration before replying to the British nation. "You would know if you came out instead of America. And fine, if you really want to know."

His green eyes widened as I pushed past him to go to the corner of the room and sulk. I wasn't giving them the satisfaction of thinking I was happy, I was going to make their lives miserable, just like mine.

England sadly made his way to his seat at the large table, moodily sitting down and reading off a chart in front of him. "Okay, let's get down to business. Germany plans to attack…" England's voice faded from my hearing as I focused on myself.

I saw a unicorn outside. Did that mean I was magical? Or did I just believe that they exist because I knew that England saw them? It's probably the latter, considering that I don't think that I can do anything magical like Iggy can.

But then again, when I touched Cotton, America could see him. America had no magic whatsoever, so normally he would have been blind to the mini stab horse. I really hope he stays quiet about it, though. I don't want England to know I can see magical creatures, not until I meet Flying Mint Bunny. But could I see all magical beings, or just unicorns?

I would love to meet the brow boy's friends. Especially his unicorn. Maybe Cotton and him know each other? That would be kind of cool. Wait, England gave America a unicorn as a present, right? I know America still feeds it even though he doesn't believe it's real. Maybe today changed that? Ugh, thinking about magic makes me feel sick.

Moving on to another note, what about meeting Germany? What would I do then, freak out? Would he even hurt me, or just question me? Would Italy intervene? Maybe I get to meet Romano.

From the way things look right now, I don't think I can go back. I hadn't asked, though. Maybe England could perform the spell again and I could leave when this is all over. I don't want to stay, no matter how true it is that I'm Mother Earth.

And if I was Mother Earth, then why was the personification just born now? I should exist from the day that this planet was created. Was it because of WW2 that I was made? Or was I created before that but placed forward in time? Before I could keep thinking and potentially fry my brain, England tapped my shoulder.

"Cole, you need to be a part of this meeting." He looked so concerned I had to tell him something that would cheer him up. "Huh? Oh, thanks. Wait, what's the subject?"

"Nuclear bombs, yo!" America jumped on the table with a fist pump to the air. The blood in my face drained.

"Nu-nuclear bombs? Please tell me you're joking. You can't possibly have been developing them this early. No way, nuh uh." I waved my hands in front of me in disbelief, unable to process the history I had learned before.

"Cole, what's wrong? We just wanted to know if they were catastrophic or not." England turned his head to me, concerned.

I didn't answer him, I instead ran over to my suitcases and ripped the middle one open. I clawed through perfectly folded t-shirts and jeans until I found what I was looking for: a book on World War two from the American point of view.

"Dude! Chill, it can't be that bad, right?" America got off the table and sat back down in his seat.

"I think it can be bad, aru. Cole may know more about them than your stupid government does." China placed his hands inside the sleeves, shaking his head at the idiotic tendencies of getting too excited of the USA.

"Mon ami, I believe Cole has seen the effect, has she not?"

"It's okay! Everyone will become one with me one day anyway, so don't worry!" Russia giggled darkly, a faint "kolkolkol" coming from around him.

I flipped through the book until I found what I wanted, the nuclear weapons section. I scanned the page until the paragraph I wanted was found, and the results infuriated me, to say the least. The color picture of Hiroshima and the test sites didn't help, either.

"Here! The nuclear program start date was on October 21, 1939." I took a small pause to skim through more information before speaking again. "America, you fucking BASTARD! You have no fucking idea what you've started, have you?"

I closed the book and turned to face him, fuming. His government had a good idea by now of what they were messing with, so America saying he didn't know was not going to be an excuse if he did try to pull it.

"What did I do!?" America got out of his seat and slowly backed up against the wall.

The air around me turned dark purple, even black in some parts. "You have created a weapon that will not only destroy the land it touches, but people, animals, and homes for miles outside of the zone hit. It will cause cancer, deformations, and serious issues. I, frankly, could give less of a shit about how useful it is or the fact that it might help you win. You. Use. It. To. Kill. Innocent. People. And God forbid I allow it."

My voice was dark, verging on evil. I ground my words out, careful of my choice and sentence fragmentation as to not give anything away.

All of the countries, except Russia, blanched and slowly scooted over to the opposite wall. Poor America was stuck in place, actually shaking in fear.

"Cole, please just th-" England was trying, from the other side of the room, next to the other countries to calm me down, or at least reason. Unfortunately, I was not even remotely close to calm enough to think about reasoning.

"SHUT UP! England, you have no idea what he's made. The damage it causes is irreversible."

I turned to the tallest country who stuck out like a sore thumb in my peripheral vision. In my creepiest, most sweet voice I had, I asked, "Russia, would you mind if I borrowed your pipe for just a minute or two?"

He nodded, "You will clean the blood, da?"

"Конечно." I answered him back in Russian to get his favor, and waited the split second it took for him to make a decision.

(Translation: Russian. Sure.)

Russia took the metal pipe out of his coat and threw it over to me, and I caught it perfectly.

"До тех пор пока я не ушел, чтобы очистить его останки из трубы, вы можете бить его до полусмерти." Okay, so I guess Russia does get tired of cleaning the metal.

(Translation: Russian. As long as I am not left to clean up his remains from the pipe, you are free to beat him to a pulp.)

"Благодарю."

(Translation: Russian. Thanks.)

"What did you guys just say?" The poor blond pressed himself into the wall, truly terrified now. I'm not sure if it was the murderous glint in my eye, the fact that Russia gave me his pipe and told me I could have it as long as I wiped the blood, or that I was getting along with Russia at all. Either way, America was about to pee his pants.

"Nothing you need to worry your little hamburger loving head about. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the tale of the nuclear bombs or weapons. Which later leads to Heroshima and Nagasaki, plus other cities that tend to be left out of the book. There's your hint into the future. Also, testing. That ruined a lot of my land, too."

My land? Where the hell did that come from?

Looking down at the pipe, I saw that it was slightly pink in some areas. Looks like the blood didn't come off completely.

"You know, America, I think it'd be a learning experience to see what blood looks like here. I think it'd be funny to see if anime characters really do have as much blood as people say y'all have. I saw this one post on Tumblr that said that there's like 1300 gallons. Why don't we test that theory?"

I took a few slow steps forward, testing the cool, heavy metal of the pipe in the palm of my hand.

"Come on, that's not really necessary! There's lots of other people to test on, you don't have to hurt me!"

"Um, no. You're a test subject whether you like it or not." I smiled down at his tremoring body from across the table. All it would take before I would be in hitting range of the American would be a good run and jump.

"Um, Cole, you might not want to kill America." Kat came in through the meeting room doors, probably from the bathroom considering that she hadn't been here before.

"You don't even know what he did, though."

"What did he do then?"

"Nuclear testing and bombing small cities. At this point, nothing big, which is why I'm going to stop it."

"Calm down. When the war's over you can get your revenge."

"No? I can stop a shit ton of shit from happening. And why the hell are you even talking to me? We literally just fought." I glanced behind me to see her standing by the now closed door, hands crossed.

"Sorry, it was pent up frustration. Can we be friends again?"

Looking at my at my chances, if I were to beat the living shit out of America, then nothing would be done, since it was his government doing the research and testing, not America himself. In terms of Kat, it was also pent up frustration on my part, and another part was my rising to anger too quickly.

"Okay, sure. Sorry, too. I rose to anger too quickly, I take responsibility. But America, when the war is over, and I will have warned you what will happen, don't bother apologizing. You'll have dug yourself into a deep enough hole."

I turned away and threw the pipe back to Russia. "Спасибо, что позволили мне использовать его, даже если я не получил бить Америку вверх. Мы полностью подружились. Официально."

(Translation: Russian. Thanks for letting me use it, even if I didn't get to beat America up. We're totally friends now. Officially.)

Russia's bewildered face didn't happen to cross my vision as I walked back to my still open suitcase to put my clothes back in and hide the book. I heard shuffling behind me, which I assumed to be the nations hesitantly going back to their seats.

Kat walked over to Canada, who had been next to France, and they sat down next to each other. England went back to his seat next to America, who had fallen to the floor, face white.

"Get up, she won't hurt you more than any of us would, you stupid muppet."

I blurred out the rest of the events as I carefully hid the book under the clothes that I had thrown on the floor in my haste of finding it. I zipped up the suitcase again, stacked the other two on top of it, and moved the suitcase over to the opposite wall, next to the door.

When I had placed everything away, or close to it, a tan trench coat came up behind me.

"Вы действительно имели в виду, что мы друзья?"

(Translation: Russian. Did you really mean that we are friends?)

Oh, I guess the trench coat was Russia. I think some part of me was hoping it would be Castiel, but I guess not.

"Да, я сделал. Зачем?"

(Translation: Russian. Yeah, I did. Why?)

Russia plopped himself down next to me, much to the surprise to some of the nations. I could feel someone's burning gaze on my back, which made me a little uncomfortable, but I was still able to focus on my conversation with Russia.

"У меня нет друзей. Вы были бы моим первым другом."

(Translation: I don't have any friends. You'd be my first friend.)

I was so surprised that I reverted to my seconded learned language, which was my favorite, German. Which was a bad idea, considering the circumstances.

"Was? Wirklich? Das kann nicht richtig sein, was über das Baltikum? Oder Ukraine? Auch Belarus..."

(Translation: What? Really? That can't be right, what about the Baltics? Or Ukraine? Even Belarus...)

"Fuck." I turned my head behind me to see all of the nations looking at me in surprise, China in an almost "I told you so" look.

"Guys, I'm not a Nazi! Promise! In my time, Germany is a cool country, and I like the way German sounds, so I learned it and it came to me faster than English. Oh my gosh, I promise, I'm not a Nazi, just ask England! And I speak a crap ton of languages, oh please don't freak out… please?"

I looked at them hopefully, scanning all of their faces one by one to gauge their reactions.

"England, back me up, please!"

He sighed, "She's telling the truth. Cole is not a Nazi, in fact she gave me a rant about how much she hated the movement."

"She could be lying." France flipped his hair behind him, and sparkles flew around the air.

"Not lying. Guys, really. I'm not kidding. I'm not fascist, or support military juntas."

"Then what else do you speak, aru?" China glared.

"Too many languages." Canada spoke for the first time, scaring everyone.

"HUH? WHO'S THERE? The hero will save everyone!"

I rolled my eyes. "It's Canada, you nincompoop."

The room collectively went "Who?".

"Do you really not remember Canada? England? France? America?" They shook their heads, looking at me in confusion.

"You're the FACE family, and you don't remember your C? Maple syrup? Maple leafs? He has a polar bear who is currently under the table? France, you raised him, and you don't remember?"

"FACE family?" Really? That's all France took from this conversation? Nothing about the polar bear?

"France, America, Canada, and England. Since you're all one big group, you're called the FACE family. Then there's the awesome trio, America, Prussia, and Denmark. Bad Touch Trio: Spain, Prussia, and Romano. I think there's a couple more, but I'm not sure. Maybe Kat knows?"

At the mention of her name, she looked up from her phone, which now, miraculously, had no more shattered screen, and took an earbud out. "Huh? What about me?"

"How many more country groups are there other than the B.T.T. and the FACE family?"

"Oh. Well, there's the Allies, Empire Group, Axis, Hanatama Family, Kirkland Family, Micronations, Non Nations, Nordic 5, Baltic trio, Italian trio-"

"Seborga?" Without Seborga, there were only two Italys.

"Yeah. As I was saying, there's a crap ton of trios and gangs and families. I actually have a list, I was just going off the top of my head, but there's way more. I have the country names under them too."

"Nah, thanks though. Hey, how come your phone screen is fixed? I thought your mum shattered it." I motioned to her Iphone with my eyes, curious.

Kat smiled at me, one of the earbud wires then getting stuck on her lipgloss. "Ugh, stupid gloss. Um, England fixed it for me. You know, magic?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, cool. Sorry for not taking you to get it fixed, I guess I just sort of… uh, forgot? Hehehehe…"

"It's fine. And don't bother me anymore, I'm listening to Hamilton." She said it in a joking tone, but I know she's serious.

"Which song?"

"Right hand man."

"Nice." I nodded my head in approval.

"Yeah, now leave me alone."

Kat popped the earbud back in and started scrolling through her phone again, effectively cutting off the conversation.

"How many languages do you speak though?" America still seemed afraid of me, clutching onto the edge of the table.

"Eleven."

"COOL! Dude, totally say something in them!"

"Yes, I think it will be interesting to hear you talk in something other than my language or America's and Britain's." Russia stood up and walked back to his seat, smiling down at China as he did so. The 4,000 year old nation shrunk away, trying to keep out of the Russian man's view.

My pointer finger went on my chin in a mock thinking concentration. "Which one?"

"Do you speak Mandarin? It is the most supreme language after all, aru. Better than any of the stupid westerner's languages."

"Qíshí, wǒ zuò de. Liúlì, gōng nín cānkǎo. Wǒ kěnéng huì huò kěnéng bù huì yǒu yīgè hěn nán jì zhù suǒyǒu de zìfú, suīrán, suǒyǐ bùyào shēng wǒ de qì, shì ma? Shuō shíhuà, wǒ xī zài xiězuò."

(Translation: Chinese, Simplified. Actually, I do. Fluently, for your information. I may or may not have a hard time remembering all of the characters, though, so don't get mad at me, yeah? To be honest, I suck at writing.)

"Nǐ shènzhì bù xūyào yǒu kǒuyīn, wǒ hěn jīngxǐ, aru. Yǒurén shuí shuō, nǐ kěyǐ bù xiě, kěyǐ shuō lìng rén nányǐ zhìxìn de hǎo, shènzhì bǐ wǒ de yīxiē běntǔ niánqīng rén gèng hǎo."

(Translation: Chinese. You don't even have an accent, I'm pleasantly surprised, aru. For someone who says you cannot write, you can speak incredibly well, even better than some of my native youths.)

I snorted, amused and a bit flattered that he noticed. "Shì bùshì zǒng shì zhèyàng, suīrán? Qīngnián zǒng shì túzǎi yī zhǒng měilì de yǔyán, dàn wǒ rènwéi suǒyǒu de yǔyán xuànyào zìjǐ de dútè lèixíng dì měi. Bāokuò túshā de rén. Bùguò xièxiè nǐ zhùyì dào, wǒ jǐnliàng bǎochí wǒ dì měiguó kǒuyīnle. Zūnzhòng yǔyán, wúlùn shì zhèngquè de kǒuyīn hé chángshì, háishì bùyào dǎrǎo."

(Translation: Isn't that always the case, though? Youths are always butchering a beautiful language, though I think all languages sport their own unique type of beauty. Including the butchered ones. But thank you for noticing, I do try to keep my American accent out. Respect the language with either the correct accent and try, or don't bother.)

"Je suis surpris qu'un ami du perdant serait si beau et intelligent~."

(Translation: French. I'm surprised that a friend of the loser would be so beautiful and smart~.)

"Can it, Frenchie!" England's face turned white with those purple lines, so I think he was angry and maybe mortified? Did he even speak French?

"France, je suis hors de votre ligue pervertie."

(Translation: French. France, I'm out of your perverted league.)

"Mais, belle dame, vous êtes aussi juste que la neige, cheveux noirs comme le cœur de la Grande-Bretagne, et beau comme un plat que je cuisinais."

(Translation: French. But, beautiful lady, you are as fair as snow, hair as black as Britain's heart, and as beautiful as a dish I cooked.)

I laughed out loud. Did he really say that my hair was as black as England's heart? And did he compare my looks with food?

"Is my hair really that dark? It's not as black as the abyss of space, you know. And what type of dish? Cause the complement can easily become an insult, France."

"Only the most eloquent of dishes, of course, mademoiselle." Rose petals surrounded France, a petal even landed on my nose. I blew it off with a huff, though I was pretty amazed that rose petals randomly appear in the air. Granted, it is an anime, so…

"Piss off, Frog. I'm not interested." And the British accent was back. "England, why the bloody HELL is this stupid accent back? IT'S ANNOYING AS FUCK!"

England snickered behind his hand. "I don't know love. But you just told off the monkey in my accent…" He burst out into laughter, not bothering to hide it anymore. "You hear that, you wine loving croissant? She's not interested! A lady, who happens to speak your ribbiting language, turned you down!"

"Nice pun." I glared at him, saying it without humor or any emotion.

"Thanks. It was good, wasn't it?"

"Dudes, why does Cole have a British accent though?"

"Because _England_ is the black sheep of Europe." I ground out my sentence, showing my obvious frustration.

"Oh don't start! I do have a theory, but I doubt you'll like it."

"What is it then, caterpillar eyebrows?" I wiggled my eyebrows to infuriate him even more than the light teasing that was probably already getting on his nerves.

Instead of making a retort, England simply smirked. "You adopt the accent of the person you like."

My cheeks flushed, "Arsehole, that is not true!"

"Must I bring up your device's picture?" His smirk widened at my flustered expression.

"I hate you." How dare he? Now America looks interested in what my lock screen is, and SJITKDJFHKDJF HDS I DIDN'T CHANGE THE DAMN THING!

"No, you don't."

I frantically took out my phone from my pocket and was about to unlock it when someone grabbed it out of my grasp.

"Better not turn it on here, you wouldn't want anyone else to see, would you, love?" England hovered above me, whispering into my ear. His accent was so thick and his voice so low that it was almost hard to understand him, and the tone of his voice alone was enough to send goose bumps along my skin.

"Sure…" I blushed, my hormones and shit going crazy. Butterflies danced in my stomach from the proximity of the nation. Damn him and his stupid shit and all of that goddamn crap.

How the hell did he get across the table so fast?

Before I knew it, England was back in his seat, my phone hidden somewhere in one of his pockets.

"Okay! The Allies meeting is officially concluded, the rest of the day is up to you nitwits." The English nation called for the meeting to be adjourned, and so it was. America got up so fast that his chair spun, and before you knew it, he was out the door, barely three seconds after the meeting was done. He really wanted to be out.

China left, grumbling about how America was immature and had no respect for everyone else. I couldn't help but comment, seeing as China was so old that he should know better. "China, he's nineteen. I'm seventeen. You need to understand, he has every right to be what you call "immature", America is incredibly young. Soon enough, he'll grow up. Until then, allow him the room to be himself."

"But why, aru? America is old enough to realize that he should have more respect for his elders."

"Have a good day, China." I placed a tad bit of tiredness into my final response. I don't have time to be constantly bickering with everyone. The accent put a bit of strain on my voice, too, not enough to irritate me, but enough to be uncomfortable. It was strange, a foreign tone of voice, and my body knew it. I think it was maybe starting to reject the accent, too.

Canada and Kat left next, France slowly trailing behind, both of them muttering a small "bye" as they passed us. Kat had her duffle bag on her shoulder, and I could faintly see her phone's rectangle shape in her pocket. France was trying to be sneaky, so he didn't say anything, but he did give me a sort of nod.

"Bye guys. Have a good day."

Russia was about to leave next, but I stopped him. "Russia, why don't you hang out with us? I kinda wanna learn more about you."

"Not in a creepy way like my sister Bela, right?" His innocent sounded voice sounded almost, scared? Maybe.

"No, I promise I won't tear out doorknobs and try to force you to marry me."

"Okay, then I'll come." He relented, seeming somewhat hesitant.

"Cool! Let me get my stuff, and then we'll go, kay?"

"No, why is the Russian coming with us!?" England was freaking out when he realized that I had just invited the larger country to tag along.

"Cause he's my friend, and my favorite, besides you. Actually, I went through a longer phase of liking Russia than I did with any other country. I share the most personality traits with Russia and America, believe it or not. You come in at a close third."

"I noticed."

"Good, then grow up and stop complaining. If China can complain about America being nineteen, then a twenty three year old can learn to mature."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW HOW OLD I AM?"

"Cause I do. Okay, Russia, Iggy, let's go." I rolled my bags to the door, Russia silently, (only because his dark aura was starting to appear), and England not so silently, following.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter 9! I hope you like it, I worked really hard…**

 **To Zaaze:**

 **You did better than what I would have done! (Personally, I hate everything to do with exercise, so good on you!) I probably would have flopped on the ground halfway and fallen asleep, so at least you finished, yeah? And I'm so glad that my chapter helped ya out, that's super duper awesome. I'd love to read your fanfiction, if you happen to have it up online, could you possibly give me the link? The episodes where Germany makes gassing jokes are in DUB, so you'd have to watch those. And I have no fucking clue what episode. I have a hard time remembering the names of the series, only God knows the exact episode number. Have a wonderful day, and enjoy the chapter that I uploaded just because you were nice enough to comment! (Honestly, your comments make my day!) And I know about the issue with the reviews not showing up, that's been happening for a while now, but not to worry! I get emails with the reviews, so that's why I reply so fast even if they don't show up.**

When we were just closing the meeting doors behind us, England asked, "Are you upset with me?"

"I'm not actually mad at you, you know. I guess I'm just frustrated that you didn't come and get me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed talking to America, but I like talking to you more." I laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of my head.

I pushed the suitcase against the wall, letting my hands hang loosly.

"Hey, did you know America still feeds the unicorn you gave him?" I desperately changed the subject so I wouldn't have to deal with a long talk about feelings. I succeeded.

England's face lit up. "Really? I thought he didn't believe in them."

He looked so happy, I wonder how he'd act when he finds out I can see them too. "Yeah. What did you guys talk about in the meeting?" I furrowed my brows. "I was in my own little world for a while, so I really didn't pay attention."

He laughed. "I noticed. We were just talking battle strategies and such, nothing to worry about."

"Hmm, I'm surprised. You guys were more civil than I thought you have the maturity for."

"I have to be, all of them will become one with me someday." Russia butted in, somewhat creepily.

"Russia, why do you want everyone to someday be apart of you?" I already knew the answer, Russia wanted friends, but I doubt that he himself knew.

"I think that everyone would be better off, da?"

"By forcing them to be your friends? They won't enjoy that very much, the Baltics being the prime example. You just need to be yourself."

"Kolkolkolkolkolkol."

"No, stop that. I can probably beat your Russian ass into the ground if I needed to, so no kol-ing."

He looked surprised that I wasn't scared of him, but I'm not sure it was bravery. I think it was stupidity. Also, if I'm the earth, aren't I the strongest? Right? I shouldn't be afraid of any of them.

I admired the beautiful architecture of the meeting building as we walked down the hallway. We passed by a stair case I hadn't noticed, it was long and winding and grand. Now that I think about it, the building looked suspiciously… American?

"Are we in America?" I was curious, if we were in Britain, I'm sure that he would be boasting about how beautiful his land was.

England snorted and a faint expression of a smile passed over his sharp features before disappearing. "No, we're in Canada. Are you impressed?"

"Huh, it's very pretty. Which province?"

"Quebec. You didn't answer my question. Are you impressed?" England's gaze seemed to linger on my eyes for a few moments before he sharply looked away.

Was I impressed? I can't really say I was. I had never truly cared for Canada but I always wanted to travel to England. Did that make me biased? I hesitated for a few seconds before answering him. "I can't say that I am, but I haven't seen enough to make a for sure statement."

Did I hear England sigh in relief? He better not have, I'll kick his ass, that's so mean. Faint footsteps tapped down the hallway heading straight for me, but I ignored it until I realized who it was.

"Onhonhonhon! I can show you the wonders of my child's land, dear mademoiselle. A lady as beautiful as you should not be around such monstrosities as Britain." France was behind me, red rose in his hand.

"GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU PERVERTED FROG!" Britain/England/UK (whatever you wanna call him), was freaking out.

"Non! I shall show her the wonders of Matthieu's country!" France was standing defiantly in front of a frantic England, who was now red in the face and quick moving.

Russia was quite a bit behind me, and England was yelling at France, and I was all alone. Instead of standing around all by myself, I moved the few steps necessary to stand next to Russia by the wall, who seemed to be calm and an easy smiled played on his lips.

"You smell like drunken cheese! Cole shouldn't be exposed to the horrid stench you give off!" Oof, that's gotta hurt. I'm sure that France has a comeback, though.

"Как получилось, что вы решили остаться все пути назад здесь?"

(Translation: Russian. How come you decided to stay all the way back here?)

Russia answered back, slightly surprised, "Я думал, вы не хотите тратить время со мной. Вы только что говорили в Британию."

(Translation: I thought you didn't want to spend time with me. You were just talking to Britain.)

What? Why would he think that? I thought I paid enough attention to him. I guess not, but that's okay, I'll just pay more attention…? I feel really shitty, to be honest.

With I quick glance back to the two nations in front of us, I listened really quickly to their conversation.

"Oh yeah? The beautiful Cole would never spend her time with uglies such as yourself!" The French country shoved his rose in my hold while he taunted the ever angry Brit. "Honhonhon! Cat has your tongue, Angleterre?"

England seethed, face red and hands clenched at his sides. France stood next to me, too close for my liking while smirking in satisfaction. I have no doubt it was a game for him to see how riled he can get England to be. From his expression, this was probably a new record.

"Ой, извини. Что тебе нравится делать?"

(Translation: Russian. Oh, sorry. What do you enjoy doing?)

Russia ignored me and giggled, "Ваш акцент в своей речи. Это очень заметным."

(Translation: Your accent is in your speech. It's very prominent.)

My eyes widened. I hadn't realized, I guess the British accent made itself present even in other languages. Well shit.

"Сожалею. Я буду стараться работать над этим... О, держитесь. Я должен остановить эти два, прежде чем они убивают друг друга."

(Translation: Russian. Sorry. I'll try to work on that... Oh, hold on. I have to stop these two before they kill each other.)

Why had he insulted England using me? Surely I couldn't mean that much, I was imposing on everything and everyone. Speaking of everyone, I should probably break up this fight and clear a few things up before it got out of hand.

"Hey, Francis? I'm not interested in you, sorry. I thought we already cleared this up. And for the record, I do enjoy spending time with Iggy here, he's pretty cool." With a disinterested glance to my rose, I gave it back to the shocked French country. "And since I'm not interested, here's your rose back!" I shot him a fake smile to mock his attempt. My head throbbed as I practically threw the rose back to him.

Was this mean of me? Yes. Did I care? No. I know France isn't a pervert, he's just very pushy, and so I need to make sure he gets the message loud and clear. I think I approached this maturely and civilly. (Not, I know I acted like an immature douche.)

"Bu- but, ma fleur! Why are you around such uncivilized sheep such as Britain?" That was rude, unnecessary, and completely able to be used as blackmail.

"HEY! Who are you calling an uncivilized sheep!?" I just faintly noticed England behind France, mouth open wide and eyes the size of Pluto. Huh, looks like the insane expressions used in anime really did happen in this world, they weren't stretched.

"First off, he's not a sheep, and if he was, he's a cute sheep. Another thing, he's not uncivilized. He knows when to stop insul- actually, nevermind. I take that part back. He runs his mouth more than America when he gets mad. Nevertheless France, please take no as an answer and back off. I know you're not perverted, just a bit wacky. And I do enjoy spending time with my dear British gentleman, he does ever know how to treat the ladies."

Sorry! I can't help but tease the quickly paling man in front of me. He was so offended I called him wacky, I was even able to crack a smile, despite how tired I was. Arthur blushed, quickly turning away from my intent inspection of his usually glum features. I've seen him smile and laugh more in the past few days then in the whole anime.

I wonder why?

England was blushing, mouth open wide as his eyes rested blankly on my face. His emerald eyes were slightly cloudy, shining like gems nonetheless. The caterpillar eyebrows that he was known for were risen slightly in surprise, the right one slightly scrunched up. A slight line of drool made itself out of his mouth, startling him back to reality.

With a harsh hand, he wiped away the saliva, still madly blushing, most likely from embarrassing himself, since he was such a "gentleman". I noticed more and more his ungentlemanly behaviors. While the nation may try, his crude pirate days did make themselves known and present, much to my displeasure. He was rude, cocky, arrogant, and prideful. Of course, with every bad quality he had a good one.

England could be intelligent, kind, caring, and downright gorgeous. I had only known him personally for a few days and I can't help but fall for him, and I may have skinned my knee on the way down. I'm being irrational, I understand, so I think I'll wait a bit before showing any type of interest in the British tea drinking cutie pie.

I'm a teenager, excuse my terrible affectionate names that England will NEVER find out.

Ever.

I gave a quick glance to the still-shocked Frenchman behind me as I walked back to Russia. His usually lightly tanned features were pale, almost unnervingly so. France's hands hung limply at his sides, and my gosh did he look heartbroken. Had anyone turned him down before as harshly as I had?

If not, woops! I didn't mean to break his spirit, but a rough push off the cliff is needed to get rid of pesky people.

When I was right next to Russia, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to England. When I was in reach of England's hand, I grabbed it, and ran off down the hallway, a goofy smile dancing across my mouth. My suitcase lay forgotten pushed against the wall, waiting to be picked up later.

"Come on!"

They struggled to keep up with me, but neither one of them took their hands out of mine. I held them loosely, just enough to drag them behind me, but enough so that they could gently pull their hands out of my grasp.

"Bloody hell!" England had the hardest time keeping up with me, Russia running at my speed, maybe a tad slower.

"Это весело!"

(Translation: Russian. This is fun!)

The loud pattering of our heavy feet hitting the ground was the only thing you could hear as we neared the glass doors. I dropped Russia's hand to push open the door, rushing into the slight breeze with replenished energy.

In my excitement, I let go of England's hand, too, instead running around the paved courtyard in front of the building, rejoicing in the cool air, the breeze rushing across my face, and the rough 'thud' of my black DC's on the stone. I threw my hands in the air, giggling out of joy since I was finally in the fresh, clean, refreshing outdoors once again.

The wind was just right, so I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let it flow like a majestic waterfall.

"Ich habe laufen so lange nicht mehr um. Die Luft ist schön."

(Translation: German. I haven't run around in so long. The air is beautiful.)

"Ist, ist es nicht?"

(Translation: German. It is, isn't it?)

I turned around sharply, hearing heavy British accented German ringing through the air in response to my German. The pronunciation wasn't perfect, but it was something new, compared to the other languages that I had been speaking lately.

"Warum reagieren Sie auf Deutsch? Ich dachte, du Deutschland gehasst..." I lifted my brow at the smirking England, making sure to put extra emphasis on the last part of the sentence.

(Translation: Why did you respond in German? I thought you hated Germany...)

"You did say it was your favorite, and for the first language for you to speak in once you found your happy place, it could be nothing else."

"And you switched back to English. Thanks, I really appreciate it. Even if it was a tiny phrase that you mispronounced."

"Why did you stand up for me against the frog? I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself." So here was the sassy and grumpy England we know and love. And how he changed the subject so quickly.

"Why wouldn't I stand up for you? You're my friend, aren't you? Russia is too." He scoffed, but I continued to look at a moving tree's branches. The wind made it look absolutely beautiful, even though it was a cartoon. I was somewhere new, somewhere unfamiliar. I have to learn and adapt to my new environment.

"I don't have friends, everyone hates me. And you said so yourself, love, you don't have me. So why should you convince me to be remotely interested in you?" It was made clear from the patronizing tone he said love with that he was sneering and was quite angry, though for what purpose was unknown.

"If Cole wants to be friends with me, nothing is holding her back from being friends with you, da?" Russia stepped in to my defense, quick to show his malicious intent.

England didn't want to be friends with me? Or was he just hurt that I had said I didn't have him as a friend? I had meant that I barely know him, not anything negative against his character.

"It's okay Russia. England, I don't hate you." Did he really believe that everyone hated him? America loved spending time with his used to be caregiver, France did too, just in his own way. I don't know if Canada harbors any hatred towards his big brother, either, but then again, you never know. He's is so quiet and reserved that he could hate or resent anyone and no one would notice.

"Hmm, what you said to your friend said otherwise." England's arms were crossed over his dark green military uniform that complemented his eyes perfectly. His attention was leveled in my direction, a sneer in place over his really… pretty… lips… I know, I need to snap out of it. But he's so pretty! And that torso of his… damn.

My scarf hit me in the face, snapping me back to not quite reality. He didn't get it, did he? I really like him. A lot. A sigh escaped my lips before I began my explanation.

"Look. All I meant by that was that I don't know you as a person very well, and I don't want to force you to be friends with me. I just don't know if you like me or not, and I don't want to be unwilling allies with you. I do enjoy talking to you, spending time with you, all that. I wouldn't say those things to anyone if it weren't true. And I defended you against France of all people! Isn't it pretty clear by now that I like you?"

My lips curled into a smile at the end. I don't think he knows just how true those statements are. I like him far more than wanting to be friends with him, and I've only known the guy for less than a week.

"You said you liked spending time with America." Oh my goodness, was he looking for a fight?

"Actually, I said I liked spending time with America, but I wished you were there because I enjoy spending time with you more."

"Why?" He looked so confused, it was like a lost puppy looking for its mommy. So cute.

"Why not? You're cool."

"Why do you like spending time with me? I'm rude, arrogant, and bitter." England ran his hands through his blonde hair. It looked so soft; my eyes were practically invited to stare at it. When England tugged at it in frustration, I almost screeched in anger. Why did he try to ruin the spun gold on his head? WHY?

"While it's true your pirate days do show, you still make an attempt to be a gentleman. I can respect that." I tore my gaze from his hair and rested it on his face, my attempt to ignore the angry ache in my cranium.

He stayed silent as we studied each other's expressions. The gentle breeze ruffled my hair and tried to pull along my plaid shirt. My jeans protected me from the slight chill in the air, but my cheeks were red from the frost slowly building.

"I really do like you. You're… amazing." I took in a sharp breath while I fumbled for amazing. It was the best way I could describe him, sweet and caring, but rough and crude. I don't know, people like England are near impossible to find nowadays!

"Amazing? You sure that's the word you want to use, love?" His mouth was closed tightly, pressed into a fine line, a smile faintly shining through. The large green eyes he rocked were so bright and hopeful, filled with a happy type of melancholy. It looked like the cold air had gotten to him, too, his cheeks were rosy, but not blushing.

"Yeah…" I lowered my violet irises from his face to the floor, awkwardly shuffling my feet into the grass and stone below us.

"Well then, I suppose I can be friends with you, under one condition." Was he really playing that right now? This might get interesting, though, I should probably pay attention.

"What's the condition?" My left eyebrow raised on its own accord in response to England's smug smirk.

"You live with me."

Russia made a small noise of surprise, quickly turning dark. "Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol…"

I choked on my spit. "Yo- what?" I started coughing violently, my head pounding with each rush of air out my mouth. England stood where he was, still smirking. The prat was probably pleased with himself and the reaction he got from me.

"You'll move in with me. You'll have your own room, of course. A gentleman would never do anything different." He had moved to be a few feet away from me, but made no move to help me as I coughed. His arms were still crossed over his chest in a formal manner, which I didn't even realize could be achieved. This man deserves an award.

"Fine, but I get to decorate it. And I'm getting revenge for this, just so you know." My hacks were still coming, just not as frequently, for which I thanked the Heavens immensely. Honestly, I was going to move in with England whether or not he agreed to it, I didn't really like the other allies.

"Het. Cole's moving in with me, da?" Wait, Russia thought I was moving in with him?

(Translation: Russian. Het means no. Some others have written it as nyet.)

"Hell no! Your land is bloody freezing! No offense, but I'd rather not be snowed in and be shivering all the fucking time. Sorry not sorry." I shook my head as fast as possible, my hair hitting me in the face.

America was too loud, Canada was quiet and Kat was going to move in with him, and I'm pretty sure China hates me. Russia was too obsessed with having friends, and his land was freezing, so that's out of the question. France doesn't even need to be explained, so we're not gonna even go there. Now don't get me wrong, I'm okay with their personalities for the most part, but I'm not going to stay with people I know I'm incompatible with.

Russia sunk away, dejected. I have no regrets though, with Russia you have to be sure that you get your point across.

"Where's Pepe Le Pew? He doesn't usually give up this quickly, does he?" France was hard to shake off, I knew that much. How had I managed to get him to back off so quickly is beyond me, so I resorted to asking his rival, who was now my friend, formally. Yay on that note!

"Probably crying about his feelings. You were quite harsh." Me, harsh? No, France was pushy.

"He's incredibly annoying! Sorry I didn't want to spend time with him so I could get to know you better, you ungrateful prat."

"Your British side is showing, love. Not that it hasn't." Damn him and his stupid adorable smile that I wante- no, I'm stopping that thought there. This is so annoying, why can't I talk normally? "Fuck you, you insolent ass." That's the first thing out of my mouth? My God I need help.

"It's more annoying than the sea idiot." I didn't mention who the it is because Sealand hasn't been born yet, I know that much. He was made during WW2 to defend the UK from the Axis' navy, then forgotten about and abandoned. When the war ended a couple of years later he declared independence from Britain. If you're wondering how, he was built in international waters, so legally he didn't belong to anyone. Yay history!

"Can we go? I'm tired. Not to mention unpacking, and then dealing with some other stuff that usually comes along with moving." I flashed him a cute closed lipped smile, my usual one, (I don't tend to smile with my teeth).

"Why would you still want to come with me? Why don't you go with Russia, you do happen to like him, don't you?" So he was pissed at me. Or… Nope. He was jealous. Yep, England was jealous. Can I get a woop-woop?

"I do like Russia, but I know that I can't survive at his house. It's too scary, Belarus will try to kill me in my sleep!" Russia tensed when I opened with "it's too scary", thinking that I was going to reference him. He relaxed the tiniest little bit when I said it was Belarus that was the center of my fear, which was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said about him. I guess everyone thought he was scary, huh?

In a quick second, once I remembered that here Russia didn't get a lot of love, I turned to give him a one armed hug. He was stiff under my arm, refusing to respond, or just frozen in place from shock.

"Я приду навестить тебя? Друзья посетить друзей!" (*sigh* Translation: Russian. I'll come visit you? Friends visit friends!)

Russia still didn't respond after another two seconds, so I let go of him and turned back to England.

"England, what if we took my stuff to where we are staying, then you can show me around Canada. If Russia wants to come, he can. That would work?"

"Da." Russia showed his eagerness, which seemed to set England off even more.

England shook his head profusely in an effort to show the distain he had for my idea, but to no avail. When I made my mind up, it was done. Another thing! Russia could spend time with us, too. Why not? I did say he was my friend, so we should spend time together.

"Come on! It'll be just like the Bad Touch Trio, we're not as awesome as Prussia! It'll totally work!"

Meanwhile, in Prussia, (or the area Prussia used to be):

"Kesesesesese! Someone important is finally recognizing my awesomeness!"

Germany's voice in the distance vaguely said something along the lines of "NEIN, BRUDER! You are not awesome!"

"YES I AM, LOSERS!"

Back to Canada:

"-It'll totally work!"

England shook his head harder, now protesting verbally as well. "NO! Russia cannot come!"

I frowned. "England, listen to me very carefully. I was asking out of politeness. He's coming."

A light purple aura gathered around me, very Russia-like. I guess I really did get his personality. I even spoke like he did, but my voice was slightly different. I could totally pass as him if I really wanted to! One day, I will help him with his Belarus problem using my newfound skill.

England blanched. "Alri-ght."

Russia shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. The poor thing probably didn't know what he should do when he has friends. Neither do I. It's okay, though, I'll change that!

I giggled at the fact that I had no friends besides Kat, and now England and Russia, I guess. It was funny to me, even if it really was pitiful in real life. Having no friends reminded me of Hamilton, and I really wanted to listen to King George's song, _You'll be Back_.

"Cole? What are you laughing about?" England managed to calm down a bit before looking at my shaking figure. I was laughing so hard that I grabbed my sides when they started to hurt. The pain eventually outweighed the hilarity, so I stopped laughing and slipped my phone out of my pocket.

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE!" England sweat-dropped immediately after he heard the lyrics. Russia smiled at the expense of England as I continued to sing.

"You say, The price of my love's not a price that you're willing to pay. You cry, in your tea which you hurl in the sea when you see me go by. Why so sad? Remember we made an arrangement when you went away. Now you're making me mad. Remember, despite our estrangement, I'm your man…"

"You'll be back, soon you'll see, You'll remember you belong to me. You'll be back, time will tell. You'll remember that I served you well. Oceans rise, empires fall, We have seen each other through it all… And when push comes to shove…"

"I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love!"

"WHAT? THIS WAS MADE BY AMERICANS, WASN'T IT?" His face was red and had those little droplet thingies all over. Aw, Iggy was so flustered.

"It probably was." Russia moved his pointer finger to the song, humming to the melody.

"Da da da dat da DIE da da da da ya da. Da da dat dat da ya da! Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da. Da da dat dat da…"

"THE AUDACITY!" England was mad, but more embarrassed than anything.

Russia was more giggling than laughing now, but I was happy that he got some enjoyment out of it. How terrible would it be if everyone was afraid of me, and never wanted to be my friend? Russia is pretty nice, he can be intimidating, but not scary. Why is everyone petrified of him?

"You say our love is draining and you can't go on. You'll be the one complaining when I am gone... And no, don't change the subject, Cuz you're my favorite subject. My sweet, submissive subject, My loyal, royal subject. Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever…"

"You'll be back like before, I will fight the fight and win the war. For your love, for your praise. And I'll love you till my dying days! When you're gone, I'll go mad, So don't throw away this thing we had. Cuz when push comes to shove, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love!"

"Britain, you are blushing, da?"

"NO YOU BLOODY GIT! I'M NOT BLUSHING, HOW COULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST SUCH A PROPOSTEROUS IDEA?"

If England wasn't blushing before, (which he was), his face was red now. You know what, I may actually feel bad about singing the song, it was mean and all England had wanted was to get America back. Unfortunately, he tried to regain control of the colonies by taxation without representation, oppression of the American peoples and unfair taxes, laws that made no sense were passed…

Okay, I don't feel so bad now.

"Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da! Da da dat dat da ya da! Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da. Da da dat— Everybody!" I laughed and jumped up.

"Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da, Da da dat dat da ya da! Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da da da da, Dat dat da ya da~!"

"Hey, it was in good fun, neither of us meant anything by it, Iggy!" For good measure, I threw in a small smile, even though my cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so damn much today. England scowled, but he did calm down, much to my relief. Huh, now that he feels better, I kind of do, too. Is that weird? I don't like it when he's upset, unless I do it intentionally when I'm in a bitchy mood.

I guess I just have to make sure he's happy. (At least as much as possible when you're a country and are participating in WW2.)

"Hey, let me go get my stuff, and then we'll go to the place, drop of the thingies, and whatever." I gave am uncaring glance behind me as I walked to the meeting room, fully prepared to get my baggage and shit from the corner of the room that I had left it in.

Russia gave a scalding glance to England when he thought I wasn't looking, and England returned it, regardless of whether I saw him or not. Damn, he was mean!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note:**

 **Hey ya'll! I'm here with chapter 10! Do I hear a woop woop? And guess what? I'm right where I was before, but now with NO plot holes! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Please review whether you like it or not, reviews are what keeps the story going.**

 **And of course, this wouldn't be an author's note without the reply to Zaaze! (It's spelled different, I know. So what? Move along, shoo, shoo!)**

 **You're totes welcome to cheering ya up! I love to hear that I made a positive difference in your life. And haha, I doubt you're younger than me. And I'd love to read your story, even if it is a self-insert. Here's a secret: My Supernatural story is a self-insert. I'd love to hear what country you became, that'd be superb! I'm in Arizona, in the US of A. I also usually stay up until like, 3, so I did probably post it really late. And I'm super tomboyish, and I hate dresses, but I really like makeup, though I think that makeup is for both girls and guys, so that might be why. (Also, I hate gendering things, like hobbies and colors. Like, a boy can wear makeup! Who the hell said he can't!? And since when is blue a boy color, and pink a girl color?) And really, when you were describing yourself, it was like you were talking about me. My aunt and uncle complain that I have the craziest mood swings, but hormones can do that to you. *shrugs***

Soft pattering of feet followed behind me, the owner just so happened to be a very flustered England. When he finally caught up with me, he shot me a quirky smile. "I'll help, love! It is what a gentleman does, isn't it?" Does he have a gentleman complex, much like America has a hero complex? That's an interesting thought.

"Sure, if you want. Let me warn you, though, it's really heavy." I had packed years and years worth of stuff. What, did you think that I would pack light? Ha, that's a funny idea. Hell no, I was packing as much as I could possibly fit in those damn suitcases.

"I'm sure it's nothing for me!" England was faking optimism. I think he's nervous that I'm still pissed at him because he didn't come talk to me, and because he wouldn't let Russia come. He was right to think that I was, but I tend to get over stuff easily.

Maybe a little too easily, my mood swings have been unpredictable since I've been here. How many times have I stormed off? Two, three? It was still more than I did at home in a year. I'm normally somewhat calm, I can handle intense pressure well. But not since I've met England, and I think it's a bad thing.

"I'm not that mad, you know. More pissed that you didn't tell me. I would have still gone with you, as much as I still hate it. You did make me leave my mom and dad, but" I laughed hollowly, "I was planning on moving to Arizona as soon as I turned 19. I guess everyone has to leave at some time, right?"

"Why don't you hate me? You have every reason to." England stuck his hands in the pockets of the military suit he was wearing, either out of the bitter cold getting to him, or to keep from fidgeting.

I sighed, taking in a deep breath after to replenish the air I let out. "Eh, I don't really know. I end up numbing myself to the situation if I can't handle it, I think that's what I did with this. Eventually I'll get out of my emotional coma, but until then, I don't think it's in me to hate you. In all honesty, and I don't know how many times I'll say this today, but I like you, I really do. In my personal opinion, you're up there with Prussia."

"What scale are you putting me on?" He raised his brows to my comparison to Prussia. We neared the building, but the path we were on was long, so it would be another minute or so before we made it to the large glass doors.

"The awesomeness scale. Prussia is first, because, DUH, he's 'ze awesome Prussia', then you. In all honesty, I only have a few favorite countries, everyone else is meh." I waved my hands in front of my face, gesturing the 'meh'.

"Who out of all of us are in your favorites list?" He looked so hopeful and happy when he found out that he was on my favorites, (though he crinkled his nose at Prussia when he thought I didn't see), so I just had to tell him how picky I was. It's quite an honor for someone to make it on my liked list, let alone favored.

"Don't laugh, but I only like a few people. Everyone says I'm too selective, but I don't want to love a douchebag just because everyone else likes them, for the exception of Romano. He's great. So, in order from favorite to meh, it's Prussia, you, Germany, Russia, America, and Romano. I think Spain is cool, too. Oh, and I can't forget about Finland, Sweden, and Switzerland, plus Poland. They're, like, awesome!" I mimicked Poland's voice, earning a small chuckle from the Brit.

"Sorry to ask, love, but what about Italy?" England looked at me from the side, keeping the majority of his eyes on the ground in front of him to keep from falling. The pavers beneath us were cracked, so one wrong move and you fell on your face. Not fun.

I blinked in surprise. Why was he asking about Italy? Maybe because everyone seems to think that he's a smol cinnamon bun? I don't know, but I am gonna tell him the truth.

"No, I don't like Italy that much. It's an unpopular opinion, especially because the show is about him, and everyone says how cute he is, but I don't like 'im. He's unbelievably manipulative, a crybaby, and generally annoying. I like Romano way more, he doesn't get the recognition he deserves. Italy just took all the attention away from his brother. And Italy depends too much on Germany, who struggles as it is under Hitler's tyranny, adding Italy doesn't help." I shrugged. "I got a lot of hate for making it known I don't like Italia, but eh, whatcha gonna do about it?"

"WHAAAT...? How could Italy be manipulative? He's empty brained, and incredibly stupid." He shuffled his feet in disbelief. How many times had Italy tricked them? Gott, I lost count.

In response, my head shook. They really didn't see it, did they? I know that Grandpa Rome and a few select countries that hadn't really fallen for his play saw it as plain as day, but never commented. I though that Iggy would notice.

"Nuh uh, just think back. When he wants to distract someone, he yells out something ridiculous, effectively irritating someone enough to stop talking and focus on him. He uses your weak spot against you, very slyly might I add, so that people do things for him. He cries when he wants to get something, and Germany will do anything to make him stop. For example, Italy knows that he's Germany's only friend, so he uses phrases like "Germany, you're my friend aren't you?" to get Ludwig to do shit for him, or to put up with his crapola. It's genius! He acts empty brained to get you to believe his act, but the average IQ of Italians is 102, number five in the list of the smartest nations. Don't underestimate the slimy bastard, he knows how to spin you!"

I waved my hands wildly in the air as I got increasingly more frustrated. Talking about Italy was always a passionate subject, especially when on the topic of his manipulation. I had studied his character quite a bit when I was briefly considering cosplaying as him for my sixteenth birthday, but then I ended up just staying in with Kat and watching Netflix to celebrate my sweet sixteen, so I didn't dress up. At the time, I thought it was a week's worth of research wasted, but I guess random things do come in handy.

"So all this time, the arse was pretending to be an idiot? That… actually makes much more sense than if he was stupid. Fuck! We all fell for it!" Hearing him curse was like a nightmare and a dream all at once.

"Meh, it's okay. It took a little over a season for me to notice it, but when I did it ALL made sense. The little ass had even the viewers wrapped around his finger. Clever, innit?" The cold air nipped at my cheeks as we briskly walked, the slight wind not helping.

"Yes, unfortunately. We'll have to alter everything now, so much for having the battle plans figured out. Thanks for telling me, love. I appreciate it." England kept steadily walking to the front of the building, where the door was calling to us, (figuratively). Only one thought was in my head when I locked eyes with the cold metal and glass door: warmth.

In a quick dash, I ran to the glass, skidding to a stop so I didn't slam into it like a bird. I pushed it open, almost running inside when the warm air welcomed me.

"Warmth! Yaaaaas…" I sighed and snuggled into my thin scarf as I waited a few seconds for England. When he came in, the poor cutie pie looked so confused. Maybe it was the fact that my face was buried in my scarf and jacket? I don't know, but his scrunched up eyebrows looked so damn adorable!

I lifted up my face just a little bit so I could study his face when he was closer to me. "What?" I spoke with a hint of amusement. He looked so shocked to see me, I had to ask.

England shook his head. "Nothing, just… Are you cold? I can give you my jacket." A light pink was dusted over his cheeks, which at this point I can't tell if it was because of his adorableness/awkwardness or from the sudden change in temperature from cold to warm. Maybe a mix of both?

"Nah, I'll just get my Russia cosplay coat out of my bag later. Thanks for offering, though!" I bought it when I saw it for sale at Macy's, it looked exactly like Russia's trench coat. As a plus, it was warm and cozy inside.

I took my face out of my scarf entirely in favor of not looking like a weirdo while we walked.

England and I followed the exact same path we took to get out to the meeting room. It was a quick walk, where we both talked about how cold it was in France and how the weather in Britain compared. England kept referring to himself as Britain, not England, which spurred something in my thought process.

"Hey, does calling you England lower your status as a country? Cause you're the UK, which is a pretty large area, and calling you Britain only refers to Great Britain, and calling you England only refers to England."

England/Britain closed his eyes for a split second. When he opened them, he slowly and carefully chose his words. "In a way, it does. Calling me by any province or country only refers to that part of me, not my whole being. So when you call me England, you're only calling me by a certain aspect of my personification. I don't really mind it, though, since my title as United Kingdom hasn't been around forever. I'm still used to being called Britain, or England, which is why I don't object when you call me that. Britain is preferred, however, over anything else."

"Okay, I get it. So from now on, Imma call you Britain! Sorry for not realizing sooner." I should have known, not that many people called him anything other than UK or Britain. Even France called him Britain. Well, he also calls him Angleterre, which means England, but besides that, Britain is mostly called Britain. Good to know.

"It's perfectly alright, love." Britain stuck his hands in his pockets. "Where did you put your luggage?"

"I think it's behind the door, in that corner place. I'll see when we get in there." I walked a bit faster down the hallway. It was dark, the lights inside being turned off and the only thing allowing us to see was the small windows lining the walls. Unfortunately, the windows couldn't have been more than 5 inches wide, so not a lot of light came through them.

When we finally made it to the meeting room, the lights were off, just like in the hallway. I pushed open the door fully so En- Britain could come in.

"You don't have to hold the door open for me, I'm supposed to hold it for you." His voice was light and carried a faint tone of amusement. In response, I shrugged. "I know you try to be a gentleman, but honestly, I'm not like the girls in this day and age. Just letting you know ahead of time, I will be wearing pants, and I will not be staying at home to clean or take care of whatever shit I'm expected to. I'm independent. Like America~." I had to add the last part, I really couldn't help it.

Britain let out a faint noise of disgust but followed me to the darkest corner of the room, where I remember storing my stuff. I couldn't see anything, so I blindly reached out until I felt the rough canvas of my suitcases. I ran my fingers across the fabric until I made it to the strap, where I grabbed it and handed a bag behind me to the gentleman who decided to help me. Big mistake, these were heavy.

But when I grabbed it, it was light. Very light, like a plastic cup or something. As a result, I ended up swinging the bag too hard and almost hit Britain in the face. Oopsies. I dropped the bag for fear of accidentally hitting him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to swing that hard. They're just really light."

He grunted as he tried to lift my bag, ultimately failing and breaking out in a sweat. "What the bloody hell are you going on about? These aren't light in the least bit, I can't lift them. What did you pack?"

"What? Dude, they're super light, like, lighter than they should be. I almost hit you in the fucking face!" I held the other two suitcases in my hands, and lifted them above my head to show my point. "Here, you try lifting them." I placed them down in front of me so Britain could grab them.

He did, and wasn't able to lift them past his knees. "How-." He couldn't complete his sentence, just fell over puffing. How come I was able to lift them, but Britain can't?

By now my eyes were adjusted to the dark lighting in the allies meeting room, so I walked over to the desk and experimentally placed my hand underneath and lifted. It was heavy solid wood, and freaking huge, much bigger than what the Allies needed. Perfect for testing how much I can lift.

With a tiny nudge of my palm, it lifted almost three feet into the air no problem. I could have easily raised it above my head, but the shock stopped me. "Oh my Doitsu, this is something… new."

"You have super strength like America!?" Britain's eyes were huge and freaking out. He was still slumped over my bags, completely exhausted from his attempt to lift them up, but it was hard to focus on that and not the completely bewildered expression he wore.

"I guess I do." I gently let down the table, careful to not break it. How do I control this? Did I damage anything else? "Do you know where the light switch is?" I picked my way through the room, avoiding chairs and random tables and file cabinets.

"No, I don't. The frog hid them, most likely since America likes to turn them off to scare us." He sounded a bit grumpy, but wasn't Iggy always? Britain's voice was a bit farther now and seemed to be moving. Our light breaths were the only sound in the room besides the faint shuffling of our feet as we felt the walls with our hands for a switch. Any switch would do by now. There was no light and I didn't have a flashlight with me. My eyes weren't as well adjusted as I would like, either, so we were practically blind.

Wait, I do. My phone! "Hey, hold on a second." I reached into my back pocket and grabbed the hard black case my phone was in. After I tapped the home button to turn it on and unlocked it, the flashlight was turned on, allowing us to see. The bright light was blinding at first, but when I recovered I shined it around.

"Do you see it anywhere?" My eyes scanned the standard French room, eventually resting on Britain when nothing was found.

He huffed, "No, nothing."

After a few more minutes of looking, I found a small switch behind a bookshelf, which really wasn't a good place to hide it. If America was really determined, he'd discover it within five minutes of ransacking the walls.

I flipped it upwards with a swift move of my index finger. The lights flooded everything, and they were unnecessarily bright, so Britain and I had to squint. "Can you look around to see if I damaged anything? I don't want to destroy anything that belongs to France, he'll make me work like he made Germany work. And let me tell you, I don't want to make stupid cuckoo clocks for the rest of my life."

I stumbled around until my eyes got used to the bright lights, but didn't find any damage. Britain only confirmed what I found, nothing.

"Okay, we can go then. Sorry." I sighed and placed my almost forgotten phone back in my jean's pocket. Britain grabbed the smallest of the three suitcases with a small groan. He pulled up the handle and rolled it to the door, waiting for me until I held the others.

When the two other suitcases were in my hands safely, I turned off the lights and rolled them to the door. "Do hurry, I'm sure Russia is already threatening someone." Britain started walking fast, obviously in a hurry.

I snorted. "It took us like ten minutes to find the darn light switch, Russia probably already beat someone to a pulp." Hopefully not.

When we were both halfway down the hallway, I heard faint whispers and a flash of blond hair quickly retreated down the hallway branching off from the one we were in. I slowed down and listened intently, but wasn't able to make out much besides that someone was whispering frantically in Italian. And it sounded sort of like… Italy?

"Arthur, I forgot to get my coat out of my bag. Can you wait a second?" I put a small tinge of warning in my tone, and I used Arthur instead of Britain or England to get his attention. It worked, thankfully, and Britain stopped in his tracks, turning to me with a raised brow.

The frantic whispers seemed to quiet, but they were still there. The high pitched voice, even when quiet, sounded exactly like Italy. In the middle of what seemed to be a break down, the sounds were muffled. Germany, probably.

I set down my bags slowly, but still fast enough to not raise suspicion should the Axis be spying on us. I unzipped the bag that had the Russia coat and rummaged through it until I found the familiar tan fabric. Using my right hand to lift it over the corner of the suitcase, I skillfully covered my left hand from everyone's view except for Britain's. Using my now concealed hand, I motioned to the hallway on my right.

Britain's eyes widened when he realized what I was saying, and his hand instinctively reached for his handgun that wasn't so well hidden. I shook my head, I don't want anyone to be shot or hurt. At my disapproving shake of my head, Britain sent a scowl my way, but dropped his hand.

To keep up my act, I fully pulled out the coat, slipped it on, and closed my suitcase. And in all honesty, I did have to get it out, so thank God that I forgot to. It was a perfect way to warn my British companion. When I pulled myself up, I adjusted the strap at the waist so that it was tight, but still comfortable enough to fight should I need to.

What? I think ahead. Growing up in a dangerous world does that to you.

"Hey, I wonder what's down the hallway. I don't think Francis showed us." I made sure to use their human names, just in case. I don't want Germany to find out who I am, he'll probably use any means necessary to get me on his side to win the war. 'Any means necessary' was bloody and terrible to think about.

"I could show you if you'd like." Britain's voice held an almost undiscernible touch of caution, one that I barely picked up on. He took a few steps forward, now in full military mode, all the years of training he undoubtedly had kicking in.

I walked silently, putting almost no effort into staying silent, but being almost impossible to hear besides that. With a few quick steps, I was in the hallway and staring straight at a scared Italy and tough Germany. Japan was behind Germany, silently resigned.

When I saw them, rage like I had never felt before bubbled in my chest. Flashes of what I learned in history class and what I had read myself ran through my mind. The Rape of Nanking, the London Blitz, and other events controlled my reactions. I could barely move, I was so angry.

In my anger, I didn't realize that I was grinding my feet into the floor, so my sneakers made a loud squeak, alerting the Axis I was there.

Their heads snapped over to where I was.

Britain was behind the corner, hiding so that he wouldn't be caught. It'd be better for us if they didn't know where he was. Or the fact that he was with us at all.

My body was stiff, coat wrapped firmly around my torso and hanging loosely at my knees. My hair hung around my face, framing my large violet eyes, and accentuating the paleness of my skin. I stood taller than Japan and Italy, which didn't seem to calm them down at all.

"What are you doing here?" The most basic of questions, I know. Don't get mad at me! I can't freaking form coherent thoughts, other than wanting to strangle the three people in front of me. My voice was tight and strained, my chest already rising and falling with my rage.

"Um, nothing! I just came here with my two friends, see~? And we were looking for pasta, yeah! Cause pasta is the best, you know? And then I got hungry, and Germany- oops, I meant Ludwig, wanted to get wurst, and then Japan-"

"SHUT UP YOU RAMBLING IDIOT!" Germany blew up, yelling at a panicking Italy. Japan stayed quiet, simply observing.

"We're here because, um… What he said!" So a panicking Germany seemed to agree with Italy. Interesting.

"I believe that what they are trying to say is that we came for a paper that we forgot." Japan spoke up, covering for the two freaked out nations. His attention seemed to be on me, studying my posture and the way I held myself.

"Why the _fuck_ are you in Canada?" I fixed my stare on Japan, cold hearted and calculated. Or so it seemed. Frankly, I'm just trying to hold myself in place and not kill him. What Japan did in WW2 got to me more than what Germany and Italy did. (The Holocaust is a whole nother story, I'm talking battle wise.)

"To get the papers, ja?" Germany started sweating.

They are terrible liars. "Nah, I don't believe you. Lemme guess, you were trying to break into the meeting room? Stealing information is what comes to mind, considering that you're super close to the meeting room." My British accent seemed to finally give way to my normal voice, which was a relief. "Finally, the thing is gone." I muttered under my breath, inwardly overjoyed.

"HEY~! You're accent is-a gone!" Italy sprang up, waving his hands and suddenly not scared of me anymore.

"Wonderful observation. It will come in so handy once you three are in jail."

"May I ask why we are being taken away?" Japan stayed calm, but Italy freaked, screaming and crying about how he didn't want to be put away behind bars. Germany just looked crestfallen, staring at the floor and reevaluating his life decisions. (Or making friends with Italy. It's probably that one.)

"You're Axis." I stated it like it was nothing, but the possibly the most dangerous thing I could have possibly said.

"So you noticed." Germany straightened up and muttered in German, "Und ich dachte, wir würden nicht gefangen werden. Verdammt , dass dumm Italienisch."

(Translation: German. And I thought we wouldn't be caught. Damn that stupid Italian.)

"Gut, dass ich hier bin, dann, nicht wahr?" (Translation: Good thing I'm here then, right?) I crossed my arms defiantly in front of three shocked Axis nations.

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" (Translation: You speak German?)

I nodded my head. "Ja." I didn't give anymore detail, since if he knew I could speak a crap ton of languages, he'd be careful how he spoke around me.

"What, but you're so pretty! Why wouldn't you work with us, pretty ragazza?"

"Because? I work with the good guys."

"But who are you?" Japan asked, with a small hint of curiosity.

"Does it matter?" I kept my voice cold, since being in their presence made me sorta sick.

"Not really…" Germany straightened his back and pried Italy off of him.

I crossed my arms. "Arthur, I believe you have some of the enemy that needs to be taken away." Britain walked out from behind the wall, and surprisingly, Russia was right behind him, holding his pipe.

"Oh, hello, love." Britain came next to me, gun in hand and pointing to the trio.

"Aw, hey Artie. You were there the whole time?" I smiled, acting all sweet, but in reality, boiling.

"Ah, not exactly. Your accent is gone, I see."

"Yup. Can you two do me a favor and get rid of these three? I don't care where, just as long as they're gone. Just don't kill them. That's my job."

"Whatever the lady says." Britain smiled, and it was super cute. *dies*

Russia nodded, "Конечно! Хотя не убивая их вещь, я не могу обещать."

(Translation: Russian. Of course! But with the not killing them, I cannot promise.)

I rolled my eyes, my attention being taken away from Britain. "Просто попробуйте, хорошо?"

(Translation: Just try, okay?)

"Конечно!" (Translation: Sure!)

I was about to turn away, but right before I did, an idea popped into my mind.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:**

 **Alrighty-o! I've been super busy with school, to no end, it seems like I'll never finish. Please forgive me! So I forgot to put this in the last few chapters, but if you speak any of these languages, don't kill me! I'm using Google Translate, as it's super hard to speak all of these. I am learning German, but I don't write well enough to be able to use my knowledge of German in this story. (Not that Google Translate is much better.) Sorry!**

 **There's been alot going on, and it's like it's never going to end. That's why everything has been on hiatus. But here I am, with a brand new chapter! (By new I mean old, this has been completed for a month or more. Sorry.)**

 **And Zaaze,**

 **It sucks that your story isn't written on paper. I'd love to read it. And yeah, you're younger than me. As for the IQ test, I took one a month or so ago, and it said 132. I guess that's really high or something…? Haha, and yeah, my friend is like that. I love her to death, but she can annoy the shit out of me. And makeup is super cool, you can play around with it and express yourself. The feeling does take getting used to, though. Having stuff on your face all day can definitely be stressful at times, but mostly it's therapeutic to be able to mess around with powders and liquids and change stuff around. Have a wonderful day!**

"What if you let them go?" Then we could find out where they're hiding, they'd hate me less, and there would be less of a danger to one of the three escaping and finding information.

Britain looked appalled at my sudden change in attitude. "Why on earth would we do that?"

"Because I asked you." I aligned my shoulder to Germany's head, in case they decided to do something stupid, like attack me or something, then I could just lift up my arm and smack them in the face.

Germany did notice. He seemed to mutter something like "good strategy" under his breath.

"Товарищ Британия прав, почему бы вы отпустить их? Г-н Pipe был так счастлив иметь другой шанс встретить их лица!" Russia looked sad at not having a chance to whack them in the face with his pipe, but I couldn't help but giggle a bit, besides bow morbid it was.

(Translation: Russian. Comrade Britain is right, why would you let them go? Mr. Pipe was so happy at having another chance to meet their faces!)

I answered him back in perfect Russian, careful to keep any accent out, now that I knew that while I had my British accent it was messing with the languages. "Ой, я знаю. Сожалею. Но всегда есть другие дни , когда вы не будут осмеяны для дробления их слабые и хрупкие колючки. У меня есть причина, я обещаю."

(Translation: Russian. Aw, I know. Sorry. But there's always other days, where you won't be ridiculed for crushing their weak and fragile spines. I have a reason, I promise.)

"Your accent is not showing up, you gave it effort, da?"

Aw, the little Russian baby noticed! "Yeah, actually. Thanks for paying attention!" I smiled, truly smiled, showing my teeth.

"Vhat? You can speak Russian too?" Germany asked.

I looked over to him with a lower level type of annoyance. "Yeah, I'm surprised you picked it up now. I was talking to Ivan a couple of moments ago, too." Italy perked up, suddenly springing up out of his pity party and sort of waving his hands around as he talked. Gosh, is that what I looked like when I did that?

"Ve~! You're a-so a pretty! And smart, too! Like, you know all the languages, even German, and I think Germany is so proud, cause you speak it so well. Do you speak Italian? Or maybe even Japanese? Yah, cause I think a smart bella ragazza would know how~!"

I smiled, he seemed so excited, and besides the fact that he was a manipulative little bastard, he was cute. But now that I think about it, he was asking so that they would know if they were safe to speak in front of me. That little…!

With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I answered the sneaky shit. "A human can only know so many. What, you think I'd know that many? Haha, no. Russian and German sounded pretty, and I liked them, so I learnt them." I didn't address if I knew them or not, just that I knew German and Russian. Hehe, take that!

Russia smiled alittle, probably thinking that I didn't see him, but I did.

"Your voice is very pretty, how come you had an English accent earlier, bella?"

"I sometimes switch them out. It's accidental, trust me."

"How is having another accent accidentral?" Japan mispronounced accidental, which seemed sort of like something that he would do. Huh.

"It just is. It comes and goes, as with everything." I shrugged. "And what's with all the questions? Ya'll should be heading out, back to your own countries. Axis are not allowed in Allied countries, duh."

Just then, my phone started to ring, playing America's Marukaite Chikyuu. Russia visibly cringed when America's loud and obnoxious voice rang through my speakers. And hold on, since when was my phone in my pocket? I thought Britain had it.

Japan stood still, stiff from the sudden Japanese song playing, and the fact that it was America didn't seem to lessen the shock.

Anyway, my cell, in 1941, where cell phones didn't exist was ringing, and I'm pretty sure I didn't have signal. "What the… Why the hell is my phone ringing?" I took it out of my pocket, and it was upside down, so I held it between my fingers and flipped it around.

The screen said it was Kat, so I swiped my fingers across, answering the call and putting it up to my ear. "Yo. What's up?"

She started screaming something incoherent, and it was so loud I pulled my phone away from my ear. "Dude, chill out. What is it? And calmer, please!"

She took a few deep breaths, then started again, but this time I was able understand her.

"So we just go to Canada's house, and it's huge! I have a super awesome bedroom, it's like, yellow, and blue and all the awesomeness is so awesome! And he has like, three drawers with pancakes on them in the kitchen-"

"Wait, real pancakes or fake ones?" I raised my eyebrow, the mention of food making me hungry.

"Fake ones, they're stickers." Darn. There goes the chance for food.

"Anyway, so Kuma was the cutest thing, he went up and was just like "I'm hungry, can I have food?" so of course Mattie" since when was Kat calling Canada Mattie? "feeds him, and then he was so cute and smol when he was eating. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, he kissed me! EEK!"

"Hold up, hold up. Who?" I closed my eyes, trying to understand what my friend was saying.

"Canada, duh. We're like, official. Isn't that super awesome!? Oh my god, I think I'm going to pass out."

I nearly fell out of shock. "WHAT THE HELL DID CANADA DO?" I rubbed my forehead, trying to get rid of the stress. It didn't work. "I don't have the time for this, I'm dealing with important stuff."

All the nations were looking at me now, some of them kind of worried. I ignored them for the time being, because I knew I screwed up big time. I said Canada, not Matthew. Shit. And now that I think about it, Kat was super loud, so they probably heard her.

"What's more important than me?"

I took a deep breath before answering her so I wouldn't lose my cool. "The Axis, dumbass. I'll call you later, everyone is looking at me like I'm the insane one. Wish they could deal with you for one day…"

Kat must have been pretty offended at my little jab, since she started ranting. "HEY! I am not bad, I mean, how many times have you threatened to kill someone, and come on, you've even said that you'd break my legs if I ever double cross-".

I sighed and hung up the phone. "Fucking hell." I glanced over at Britain desperately. "Why did I decide to be her friend?"

"I don't know love, that's between you and Kat." He gave me a small side smile, but I know he was making fun of me, probably because he heard her. Shit.

"Okay, so, where were we?" I put my hands on my hips, trying my best to be serious.

"Vhy did you say Canada? Und vhy did your friend say that…" Germany trailed off, unsure how to word it. He was being super careful now, too, and watching his back. I don't really blame him, I mean, come on, I'd do that too.

"Did I? I wasn't aware." I tried to play dumb, but only God knows how long that will last for.

"You did, Cole. I am not to playing the "devil's advocate" or like you are calling it, but you did say it." Russia looked at me with a serious face, but I know that he's just being an asshole.

"And if I did?"

"Then you'd have ruined your cover." Britain butted in, none too happy.

"Okay, fine, I did. I know that you're countries. I think that was pretty obvious, but whatever."

"WHAT? That's so cool! Now I can totally take you to Italy and you can meet Romano, and-"

I cut him off, glaring a bit. "And now it's easier for me to refer to you guys by your country names. I don't know all of your human names, anyway. And no thanks, Italy. Not while you're driving."

No way in HELL would I EVER go in in the same car as Italy when he's the one driving. I do not have a death wish. Working with the Allies was dangerous enough, they were all hazards, but compare that with Italia's driving, and I'd choose the Allies any day.

Japan turned green at the mention of Italy's driving, even though I'm pretty sure that he hadn't been in the same car as Italy yet, considering that Italy was driving a fairly modern car in that episode.

Germany asked, with a no nonsense voice, "So who are you really?"

I let out a small, uncomfortable snort before straightening my back, since slouching while standing up was not the most comfortable.

"I'm the Earth. I would say nice to meet you, under any other circumstances, but right now you three, plus a few others, are my enemies."

"You're the Earth? No way!" Japan sort of maybe hinted that he didn't believe me, to which Russia glared at him.

"Da, she is. Cole made it rain in the meeting room."

I groaned and hid my face in my hands. "Not my finest moment."

Britain started laughing. "You haven't had a fine moment since I've met you!"

My face turned red. "Shut up!"

Italy giggled and jumped up. "Your face is as red as a tomato! And you're so cute~! I think you should meet Spain, too!" He spun around, almost falling face flat if it wasn't for Germany catching and stabilizing his Italian friend.

I face palmed. "Just leave. Seriously, I do NOT have the energy to deal with any of this."

I turned around on my heel, before adding, "And if you go anywhere besides straight to your planes, I swear, I will turn you into pretzels. And I'm not joking, either. Get the hell. Out. Of. Canada."

I could see the dark purple gathering around me, scaring the wits out of everyone else. With a satisfied twirl of my foot, I walked calmly away to where my bags were. When I was there, I picked them up, no trouble at all, and continued walking.

Britain walked side by side with me, face calm and composed, but as soon as we were outside of the other's view, he grabbed me, and pulled me aside.

I dropped the bags in surprise, not expecting to be pushed against the wall by Britain of all people.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing? You could have gotten yourself killed. You have no idea how war works, and you, as a PLANET, have just declared war on parts of yourself. When nations do that, we get our 2ps. I fear that you don't have one."

He was right, but we don't have room for doubt.

"Bruh. I did what I did, and it was calculated." Ooh, rhyming. Someone's the next Lin-Manuel Miranda. "And isn't my joining of the Allies a declaration of war?"

"Yes, I suppose it is, but what you did was incredibly reckless." His eyes scanned my face for any sign of emotion, but I kept everything hidden away. Like Bella Swan from Twilight, because that movie sucks! And the books, too.

"Hey, at least I had self-control. Sometimes I don't have that. " Haha, lying~! Everything was calculated. I want them to underestimate me, then I can destroy their feeble attempt at killing my people. And I understood more about war than Britain thought I did. Look at me, being a nerd and taking extra classes on battles and strategic planning DOES help!

"Yes, as you've demonstrated." He let go of me and started walking away. "What, are you waiting for me?" I looked over at him, still slightly dazed and caught up in my mental retorts.

"No, I'm waiting for America. Yes, I'm waiting for you!"

"Oh. Sorry."

Slightly off balance, but still able to walk without tripping, and holding my bags at my side, I made my way over to the large hall leading outside. Britain was a good few steps ahead of me, and he only seemed to be gaining.

"Hey, hold up, I'm sorry!"

I ran to keep up with him, but he only seemed to be walking faster. Was he really that mad at me?

"Ugh, not fair! I'm sorry, okay?" My hair whipped me in the face, having no compassion at all. When my hair hit me in the face, I couldn't see, and since I couldn't see, I didn't notice the tear in a upcoming rug. Therefore, I ran right into the rug and my shoe caught, sending me to the ground.

"AHH!" I went face first, landing with a loud thud onto the hard, stone floor, covered only by the small rug. My bags fell next to me, of course, after flying through the air like majestic waterfalls. Only in anime.

"You fell? Typical." Britain did at least turn around to help me, but I was in too much pain to notice.

My face felt like it was smashed, and I knew for a fact that my nose was bleeding, since I could feel it trickling down. My ankle hurt, too. It was probably just twisted.

"Ow." That was all I was able to get out, since the shock of the fall was still messing with my brain. I pulled myself up and against the wall, since doing much else was too hard.

The most confusing thing, though, was that it felt like the skin on my stomach was burning, but only in specific areas. As I noticed the skin on my stomach, my forearm was burning, too, as was the back of my neck and my chest area, near my collarbone and edging on the collarbone. None of those areas had touched the ground before now, and I'm positive it wasn't carpet burn.

"Do you need help getting up?" Britain was just standing above me, looking completely done with everything. He was looking at me in annoyance, probably thinking that I was exaggerating.

I wanted to get up, I really did, but I couldn't seem to move, at all. It's a miracle I moved to the wall.

I hissed through my teeth a bit, hoping that he would get the picture, that I was in way too much pain. The fact that there was a trail of blood trickling out from my nose would be nice for him to notice, too. Though in all fairness, I did have my head turned away and cheek against the wall, so he probably couldn't notice.

"This is ridiculous." He studied me a bit more, waiting for me to get angry and get up, but I didn't do anything, I just stayed in place, desperately hoping the burning would go away. "What's that red mark on your arm?"

I closed my eyes, trying to numb everything in most ways I could think through my clouded mind.

He knelt down, studying the burning part of my arm. "Hold on…" Britain gently touched my arm, a good inch from where the burning was, but the pain was so intense that out of reflex, I pulled my arm away.

That, of course, was a bad idea, because then it hurt even more, since the skin had moved. "Ow..."

"Cole… I have to look at your arm." I could practically feel him frowning.

"No."

"Are you bleeding?" He sidestepped over to my right, where my head had been turned. His shocked gasp was enough to get me to open my eyes.

"You're the most clumsy person I know. I thought it was America or Australia, but then here you come along, falling and tripping on things." He gritted his teeth, finally getting a glimpse of my arm. The coat had been pushed back when I fell, so my forearm was exposed to the air. I haven't even seen it, but judging by his reaction, it was bad.

"Does it burn anywhere else?"

I nodded, cringing when my skin retaliated. The cringing hurt me too, so there was nothing fun about that. And what the hell was burning so bad anyway?

"My neck, my collarbone, and a few other places." I hissed again when he gently probed at my hand, trying to find the mark.

"Cole, I need to see anywhere else it may burn or hurt. Can I move your hair so I can look at the other burns?"

Why did he need to see anything else? I don't want to move, it hurts! "Sure." I didn't move, even when I had the strong urge to when his hand pushed away my long dark hair. It took two swipes of his hand since when I was sitting down, my hair reached to the floor and then some.

A single hair brushed against the hot area on the back of my neck, and that single hair was enough to send a strangled cry ripping out of my throat.

"Shh, shh, it's okay." Britain's soft voice was enough to sort of distract me, but more than anything it kept me from floating away into my head.

He took in a sharp breath of air, almost as if he was appalled by the injury on my collarbone. Britain's eyebrows scrunched together in concentration as he moved my head to the side so that he could view the burn on my neck.

"I've never seen anything like this, but I know exactly what's going on. You have three other burns besides the ones I've looked at?"

How did he know? "Yeah, actually."

"Cole, I told you that you don't have a 2p. The burns on your skin are the marks of the countries you declared war against. Now they're retaliating, and the result is the burns. The burn on your arm is shaped like Germany, your collarbone is Italy, and the back of your neck looks like Romania. I'm going to make an assumption that the other three burns are Japan, Bulgaria, and Hungary. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a few other burns show up later."

I blinked. "What?" This is too much information for me to process in such a short amount of time.

"Come on, we have to get you to an infirmary."

Britain tried to help me get up, but that just resulted in my hissing whenever I moved. Eventually, he got me to stand up through some awkward positioning, with his right arm under my left arm, and me leaning against his hip, (yeah, awkward), but I couldn't put any pressure on my ankle.

"You know, I could just stay here…" Staying didn't catch my fancy at the moment, since I really don't want to be left alone, but it's too painful to move, and I don't want to bring Britain down.

Britain rolled his eyes. "No, I'm getting you to a hospital. As much as I'm sure you'd love to not move, and I'm very sorry, but these are serious burns. I may have to call America here though…"

I groaned. "AW, come on!"

"Oh, stop it. You can hold up until we get there." He pulled me up a little more, and placed my non burning hand over his shoulders. It was uncomfortable, my shoulder and armpit were being stretched and it sort of hurt, but I didn't say anything.

We walked to the glass door, which was down the hallway. I hobbled and leaned on Britain until we made it to the couches, where he dropped me on the seat.

"Ow. You didn't have to drop me." I looked up at him through my lashes, irritated but more than anything in pain.

"You were going to bleed on my uniform. I don't have the time to get the stain out." Britain glared down at me, now somewhat relaxed.

"Cold water and hand soap." Years of bleeding out of my lady parts prepared me for war and bloodstains.

Now that he mentioned it, my nose hadn't stopped bleeding. And now the blood was all over my chin and face. But he probably could have been nicer about it.

Crap. I probably look like some type of monster.

"Do you have a tissue or something?"

"No." What a helpful little dandelion he is.

With my good hand, I patted my pockets, both in my jeans and my coat, until I felt a small lump. I stuck my hand inside the pocket, and pulled out tissues! "Oh, nevermind. I have some here. I think I may have stuck them in there when I got sick a few months ago…"

Wiping my nose with the blood works still going, with only one hand, seemed to be more difficult than I thought it would be. I managed, but before long, the tissue was red and was already streaking the crimson liquid all over my face. I got a new one, and finally got the blood cleaned up.

When everything was clean, I quickly reached for two new tissues and stuffed them up my nose, cutting off the exit for the blood. I think my nose was broken, because it hurt whenever it shifted. That and it was at a weird angle.

"Can we go now? The sooner we get to some hospital or something, the sooner I can be treated and then you won't have to stress yourself out. Because you're so caring, ya know?"

Okay, I'm going to be honest. I sounded really weird since the tissue was up in my nose cavity thing. Like, I had a high pitched voice, it sounded really nasally, and…

Let me put it this way: I sounded like I was congested.

"Thank you for the compliment." Britain arrogantly stuffed his nose in the air, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It wasn't a compliment, dimwit." I narrowed my eyes. Was he always so…. Infuriating!? "Is your arrogant and thickheaded attitude to overcompensate for something, or are you actually like this?"

"I can't overcompensate for anything that I'm not missing. Everything is in perfect proportions, love." He winked. "Of course, if you don't believe me-"

"NO, STOP RIGHT NOW!" I shook my good hand, absolutely shocked and angry that he even went there. "You're worse than Italy, you perverted piece of… eh, I don't know. English person?"

Britain chuckled. "'English person' is not an insult."

"Not to you, but to the rest of the world, yeah, it is. I mean, in soccer or football, whatever you call it, country's chants are 'WE HATE ENGLAND MORE THAN YOU DO'. I mean, I don't know about what you take from this, but I'd think that's an insult."

His eyes practically bugged out of his head. "What countries?"

Should I tell him it's his brothers, mostly? Yeah, I will, because he's an ass. "Your brothers."

At Britain's face, the absolute shock and horror and surprise, a small bubble of amusement surfaced, but I didn't let it come out.

"Those…" He shook his head before seeming as though he wanted to drop the subject.

"Come on, we still have to get you to the hospital. And the bleeding hasn't stopped, your tissues are all red now."

"Huh? Oh, thanks. And Britain?" I looked up at him, an easy smile playing on my lips. "Thanks, a lot. You're super awesome." And now I feel really bad for telling him that. English person isn't an insult, it really isn't. And now I feel like crap. Great.

"And frankly, I'd be proud to be English or British. Technically both, but besides that, it really doesn't matter."

"Huh, thanks." He huffed. "And get up if you can, we still have to get outside and to my car. I still might need help though, and Russia is busy escorting the pig headed lunatics, and everyone else is gone…"

WAIT! I have a cell phone, that magically works, right? "Hey, I can call someone. Kat and Canada might come help, if they're not too busy sucking each other's faces off."

"I suppose it can't hurt to call her." Did he forget about Canada?

My burned hand was throbbing with pain, so I grabbed the phone with my left hand, (my good one), which was super uncomfortable and hard since I'm right handed. After I clicked the home button to turn on the screen, then faced with the picture of Britain, (yes, I blushed and looked down at the ground while he looked like he had won the whole damn war by himself), I unlocked the screen and opened my calling icon. (My password is 1942, if you're wondering.)

I swiped across Kat's contact page, a shortcut to calling.

"Hello?" Kat answered, sounding slightly breathless. I think my hunch was right.

"Hey Kat, sorry to bother you guys. But I fell, and I may or may not have broken my nose, sprained my ankle, or twisted it, I'm not sure yet. Also, there are burns all over my body shaped like the countries that I may or may not have declared war against. I'm also covered in blood from a nonstop nosebleed, and I may or may not pass out from blood loss. Could you come help?"

She took in a sharp breath before answering, followed by a soft exhaling. "Sure. Are you still at the meeting place?"

"Yeah."

"Be there in like, I don't know, how long Mattie?" There was some shuffling before a soft voice answered, which sounded like Canada.

"Maybe ten minutes. Are you okay, Cole?" Canada sounded concerned, but his whispering was almost impossible to make out over the phone line.

"Truthfully, no, I'm ready to scream. But thanks for asking." Bored, I groaned inwardly and stared up at the ceiling while I waited for Kat to get back on the line.

The phone shuffled a bit more before Kat finally made it on the line, sounding rushed and very upset. "We'll be there in a bit, okay? Bye Cole!" She hung up before I could say anything back.

That was a… interesting conversation. At the very least…

My phone screen turned off on its own, so I just dropped it in my lap.

"BORED." I threw my left hand in the air dramatically, copying Sherlock.

"I can tell. Why don't you focus on your pain? I'm sure you won't be so bored then." Britain briefly glanced over at me, unamused.

"Because then you'll be dealing with a hysterical Cole, and God forbid that to happen. You'd leave me here and head your ass straight back to England."

"True, I can't deny that statement. I have a hard enough time dealing with you now, anything else is too extreme."

"I'm exactly like you, though. Just not hot and British."

He grinned a bit, before retorting, "One of those is not true."

I wasn't British, so was he saying that I was hot? "Cool, thanks. It's always nice to hear that _someone_ thinks I'm attractive." My voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Not someone. Even America, the idiot, noticed." He looked up at the same part of the ceiling I was studying.

"Huh, thanks, I guess." I left my tone flat, trying to show how bored I was.

"You're welcome, I suppose. What's so interesting about the ceiling?"

"I'm not sure, but there is a small black spot over there, and I'm trying to figure out if it's a bug or part of the ceiling, which is more likely to be a bug since it's tile. But then again, it might be marker from when they were installing the ceiling, sooo."

"It's a beetle." Britain, who I'm assuming was amused by my antics, strode over to my portion of the couch and dropped himself next to me.

"Huh."

He leaned back and stuck his hands in his uniform pockets. "You're very intelligent, in ways that you don't show. But what I'm trying to figure out is why you do cover it up. The higher the intelligence, the less people tend to care about others. Why did you keep your IQ hidden? I understand that you said that it was to keep from being bullied, but yet I highly doubt that."

I was hoping that he hadn't noticed.

"Haven't you figured it out already, Mr. Holmes?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter 12! I hope you all enjoy, and please don't forget to review. And if you have any ideas on what should happen later in the story, let me know, please. I need ideas, I'm running out of them. Plus, I think it's fairly easy to see where my story is leading, and I hate when I see those types of Fanfictions, so please hit me up with any of the ideas y'all have! Thanks!**

"I think I have, but I'd rather confirm with you than to keep assuming. As you would know, deduction is only useful if correct in its assumptions."

"Huh. Let's hear the theory then."

"I think you stayed silent to keep your parents from making too big a deal of it. I noticed you don't have the closest of relationships with them, demonstrated by the fact that when you found out you could call, you immediately contacted Kat, not your mum. I also highly doubt that the thought of contacting your parents or relatives crossed your mind."

"Huh, close, but very wrong. Yeah, I love my parents, but I stopped showing exactly who I was around 12 or so. I stayed silent to keep Kat from being bullied more than she was for hanging out with me. Good hunch though, bravo."

When I shifted my gaze over to Britain, a passive expression resting on my features, his eyes were gently scrutinizing me.

"The fact that you haven't called your mum yet doesn't bother you?"

"No." I answered flatly. I'll call later, what does it matter? I love her and Dad, but I don't need to be babied, or constantly worry about other people.

"Interesting. You haven't cursed in a bit, are you alright?"

At my piercing glare, he clarified. "Mentally."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've gone months without cursing, it has to do with how mature I feel on showing. If I want people to think that I'm ordinary, what do most ordinary teens do? Curse. Then they're not taken seriously."

"So you associate cursing with immaturity?"

"Yep." I popped the p.

"You should meet the Queen. And Prime Minister, they have to be informed that you exist. And of course, be known that you get say in anything to do with land. You might have to meet the leaders of all the countries, and unfortunately for you, perhaps even the leaders of the opposing force."

"Cool. I can say that I met them. Though I should probably meet the president before he dies…" I trailed off, carefully gauging Britain's expression. No new expressions appeared.

"You know?" I accused. If he knew about FDR's future death, then America was probably the one to tell him.

"Yes. We can feel when our leaders are close to dying. In this case, America told me." BOOM! My hunch was right.

"It's in like, four years. How does he know now?"

"Simple. You'll figure it out later." Britain didn't elaborate, instead moving the conversation to another point.

"What's your favorite activity, as trivial as that sounds?" Britain leaned forward, listening for my answer.

"I don't know. I guess it'd be reading a book and listening to music while drinking tea. Outside isn't worth it unless I feel like it, so… I go outside twice a week, maybe? Not talking about running errands."

"I'd have thought that you enjoyed going outside. You did run out earlier." He folded his hands in his lap as he leaned a bit back, not fully happy with the answer he got.

"Nah. It's great and all, but I like moody days when it's really cloudy and rainy and stuff. Sunshiny days are not for me, unless I'm upset. Then sunshine it is! But generally, I don't like going outside." I was going to crinkle my nose, but as soon as I moved it, I felt the pain that came with a broken nose.

"Ow." I flinched back, surprised by the sudden sting.

Britain shook his head lightly. "I thought you figured your nose was broken. Why would you try to move it?"

"Meh, I don't know." I shrugged with my left hand, trying to avoid aggravating my other injuries.

"I don't think that I'll ever fully understand your behavior." Britain sighed before continuing. "I thought I'd know so much about the Earth, considering."

"Considering what?" I raised my brow.

"Considering that I'm a small portion of the land." His expression changed to something unreadable. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure it out.

"Then don't try. I have a hard time figuring out why I act a certain way, but no trouble with others. It's the way the world works sometimes." I shrugged while pressing my lips together.

"Is that so? Then try to figure me out, without using what you know already." He challenged me.

When someone challenges me, I usually accept. And unfortunately, I've been in a very competitive mood lately. I ran my eyes quickly over his proud little face, his smug expression only pushing me to awe him even more. The fact that he was showing the emotion allowed me to read him, just moments before it was impossible.

"You're angry, bitter. Your shoulders are tense, but unconsciously. You have a cat, there is gray fur all over your coat. Is it England-Cat? He's really cute in the episodes." Britain shook his head, eyes closed but smirk still in place.

"I have a Scottish Fold. His name is Marvin. But yes, the other cats know him as England-Cat."

"AWWW, Marvin! How cute~!"

Britain threw his head back with an exasperated sigh. "On the outside. On the inside I believe he is the demon I keep trying to summon."

I tried to laugh, but the stretching of my skin hurt my nose, so I exhaled sharply instead. "WEEELLLL, not really, your magic is fine. You know when you were trying to summon a demon to get at America, but instead Russia appeared?" He nodded, and I continued. "It makes complete sense when you think about it, you weren't really summoning a demon, but rather something evil."

"Really?" Britain's voice was so soft with shock that I *maybe* got goosebumps.

Which really hurt, since the goosebumps came up where the burns were, too.

"OWOWOWOW!" At the end I hissed a bit, reaching my good hand over the mark on my right arm, hoping that the pain would go away.

Britain's eyebrows shot up, full of concern. It would be hilarious if I wasn't in horrid discomfort.

"What's wrong? Why did you-"

"GOOSEBUMPS, THOU PUNY MILK-LIVERED PIGEON EGG!" My true insults and most dangerous words made themselves known when I was at the shortest of my mind.

"Shakespeare insults? That would be quite creative and worthy of applause had you not been here screaming your head off because of some burns that could have been prevented." He shook his head.

Right when I was going to retort a smartass comment, Kat ran in the building with Canada close behind. Sweat drops were all over her forehead, and she was panting really heavily.

It was an interesting sight, considering that it was all animated and there was close to no detail except for certain times, like when I noticed the bug on the ceiling.

"We got here as quickly as we could, are you all right?"

"No, not really." The words shot out of my mouth faster than I had time to think about it, and sharper than I would have intended. To my surprise, Kat didn't flinch and instead leaned on her knees, breathless.

"Got here" she breathed in sharply, "five minutes faster" another sharp breath, "than we were supposed to." She straightened her back, rising to her tiny 5' 2" height, before adding, "I ran from the parking lot here. Looks like" ANOTHER sharp breath, "it was a good thing we ran."

"Yep." I said it in a nonchalant tone, the goosebumps were gone, so the severe burning stopped.

"Took you long enough. I need help carrying Cole to my car. She's too sensitive to walk, and probably twisted her ankle. And she's too heavy for me to carry." Britain puffed angrily.

Wait, was I supposed to get mad at the too heavy part? Nah, I'm the perfect ratio to my height, so not worth it. Even 80 pounds, a child, would be pretty heavy.

Canada nodded. "Okay, I can help." His voice was so DARN SOFT I CAN'T HEAR HIM IHDGKUSDHFGUEWGBFASKJ!

Going simply by the nod and thinking that he would help, I tried to straighten my back but flinched when the couch brushed against my neck, where one of the burns was.

"AH! That hurt!" I lightly but quickly pushed myself off of the back of the couch, instead resting with my back a good five inches from the cushion. Everyone looked concerned until I talked to Kat.

"Kat, I'm very sorry, but could you possibly get my bags? I dropped them when I face-planted. They're in the hallway. Thanks." I asked her, nicely. It was nicely, I promise.

"Sure." She nodded, but right before she set off, I added, "Look for the blood stain on the carpet. It's pretty big, so quite the accomplishment! I didn't pass out, either."

Her eyes widened before she literally ran, a large smile playing on her lips. What? We're weird teenagers, and a huge bloodstain is actually kind of cool. Just as long as someone doesn't die, (though it depends who) we can get some form of enjoyment out of it. (Of course, not for everything. There are things that I do not have to mention that are common sense that it is not cool to laugh at, make jokes about, or think is even somewhat enjoyable. You know what I'm talking about.)

"Can I see the burns? Kat told me they're the Axis'." Canada calmly walked over to the couch, hands in his tan uniform, and a calm look in his violet eyes. It put me somewhat at ease, a feeling I didn't even realize I had, (anxiety), to see someone else with purple eyes. It's interesting how that works, right?

"Yeah. So far, I only have six, but Britain said that I might get more. Which does make sense because there is Prussia, the Astro-Hungarian Empire, which I assume to get two separate burns for that one, and Spain, plus a few more. The one on my arm is Germany, apparently. I haven't looked at it. Too painful to move my head, there's a burn on the back of my neck, too."

"We'll definitely have to get you to the hospital then. But I think it would be best to get you to the medical tents in our bases. Not that many questions will be asked, you know?" Canada nodded, closing his eyes while he explained. For some reason, it feels like everyone is getting back into character.

Does that make sense? It's like I disturbed their characters, and now they're getting back to who they are. I sighed at the thought, bringing the attention of Canada.

"What's wrong?"

I clutched my burned arm absentmindedly. "Nothing. I was just thinking." With that, I turned my head away, flinching slightly when the skin around the burn stretched, back to the wall while Canada walked over to me to view the burn.

His cold hand gently held my wrist while he looked at the odd shape. "It's definitely Germany. And these are pretty bad, too, so you might get scars."

"Hmpf. Okay." I let out in the most bored tone I could manage.

"Getting scars doesn't bother you? These burns must really hurt, Cole. How come you're not screaming like you're dying, eh? I would, and so would America, for that matter." Canada brought his eyes up to mine, studying me carefully.

"It's nothing, just that details aren't exactly the first things to appear in anime. Most likely, other people won't be able to see them unless I bring their attention to them. And yeah, they hurt, but I have a high pain tolerance." Canada and Britain nodded, their focus now being getting me to the car. Canada focused on trying to get me to be able to move, so that they had to do less.

"Okay, now I need you to move your ankle." Canada quietly instructed me.

I did, but whimpered in pain. "It hurts, though."

Britain snottily decided to reply, when he really didn't have to, "At least it's not broken. That'd be too hard to take care of, and you'll heal faster."

I snapped my eyes to his, angry. Why was he such a jerk?

"I know that." Every time he said something, it's in some really snotty or rude attitude. Was he trying to piss me off? Hurt or not, I could still hit him.

"If you knew that your ankle wasn't that badly hurt, then why did you say that you couldn't move? Surely you could have walked instead of having me carry you. And it was in the nick of time that we got here, you would have bled all over my uniform, and I can't have that. I need to stay professional, regardless of who I'm around, or whether or not I'm with a woman." He added a small huff at the end, signaling that he was done talking.

"Your argument doesn't make sense." I rolled my eyes. There was no use getting angry and fighting, it would just result in me paying the consequences, not Britain.

Canada quietly agreed with me, saying something like "You're being really rude…"

Britain snapped his eyes around the room. "Who was that?" And so he forgot about Canada. Again.

"THAT WAS CANADA! Do you always have to forget about him? Didn't you raise the little maple leaf? Pay more attention, Britain, and stop forgetting about your children countries. Geez." I blew up, only slightly irritated that he attacked me, but beyond angry that he forgot about Canada.

"Right." Britain turned away and got up, saying that he was going to see what was taking Kat so long.

When he was down the hall, Canada thanked me.

"Thank you for remembering me." He looked really uncomfortable just standing there.

"Dude, everyone is supposed to remember you. It just ticks me off that they don't. I mean, you're just as much of a country as everyone else, not only that, but as a human, too. Don't get me started on how Cuba keeps thinking that you are America, because that's a whole 'nother story." I ranted, growing even more angry.

Canada looked intimidated, and he even took a few steps back. Oops.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to go crazy there." I tried to calm down, both myself and the situation.

"Sure. I just haven't met anyone who actually cared about other people remembering me." He spoke quietly. He fidgeted with the hem of his tan shirt that undoubtedly was his military uniform. Guess he hadn't taken it off.

"Yeah." I switched from English to French, a language I knew only France and Canada understood. "Alors j'entendu dire que vous êtes ensemble avec Kat maintenant?"

(French. So I heard that you're with Kat now?)

He nodded, slightly put off that I spoke in French, not English. I continued talking after he nodded, knowing he understood. "C'est merveilleux. Il suffit de ne pas bousiller. Aussi, pro astuce: elle aime vert pastel, et lui apprendre le français. Sa nourriture préférée est la tarte aux bleuets, alors faites ce que vous voulez avec cette information. Et ne demandez pas à propos de sa famille, d'accord?"

(French. That's wonderful. Just don't screw up. Also, pro tip: she loves pastel green, and teach her French. Her favorite food is blueberry pie, so do what you want with that information. And don't ask about her family, okay?)

He widened his eyes and nodded, probably wondering how I knew they were together. Wait, were they together? Kissing doesn't always mean that they're boyfriend and girlfriend… Oh well. For the sake of this conversation, I'll assume that they're semi-official.

Britain and Kat came in, both of them struggling with my bags. Britain had sweat glittering his forehead, so I'm assuming that the bags he had were heavier.

"Yo! What's up?" I turned my head over to them with a small grin.

Britain groaned, "Why did you have to pack everything you own into three bags? It's like carrying a whole house. Bloody hell."

"Yeah Cole, these are really heavy, and I'm carrying the smallest of the three. What the hell did you pack in these?" Kat added, sounding strained.

I smirked. "Literally anything I could afford to pack, I did. And don't judge, all of the things in those bags will one day be useful. Trust me." Truth be told, I packed anything I could fit in those bags. I'm surprised that they haven't broken. (I may now have super strength, but seriously, they are still heavy, even if I can pick them up no problem.)

"I'll take these to the car." Britain grunted. He walked out, followed close behind by Kat.

They were halfway out the door when Canada started to help me get up.

"Okay, place your hand on my shoulders, and lean gently. Try to not move anything." He instructed. Canada's glasses slipped down his nose as he pulled me off the chair, stopping right at the tip of his nose.

"Geez. I hate my glasses sometimes." He sighed.

"Meh, they don't suck as bad as some people say they do. My glasses have proudly served me for a year! Not that I need them, but I use them to hide my eyes when I'm self-conscious." I blabbered on, oblivious to Canada's head shake.

"Cole, just try to get up as painlessly as possible." He rolled his eyes, focusing on trying to get me up. His foot was under mine, and I accidentally stepped on it, putting all of my weight on Canada's toes.

Something felt off, my balance was off, not just because of my sprained ankle. As soon as I realized that my balance was off, I figured that my foot was crushing someone else's. "Sorry!" I quickly pulled back my leg, hoping the injury wasn't too bad.

"It'll be fine…" Canada hissed, trying to not show the pain. I flinched when I noticed that he shifted his weight to his uninjured foot, his effort to ignore it and move on.

"Sorry, I really am." I inwardly cringed, awkward. I didn't handle most situations well, and this counted as one that I couldn't handle like a normal person.

"It's okay." It's so odd how now I had these people right in front of me, and everything was going wrong when it should be the happiest day of my life. Canada whispered everything, America was unbelievably loud and obnoxious, Britain was sarcastic and rude, and France flirted and had an accent that almost burned my ears.

Hetalia was exactly the way it was supposed to be, but then why did everything feel off? What was the difference, besides me? Nothing, I was the only difference, I wasn't supposed to be here. I had a small bubble of anxiety the whole time I was here, and it doesn't help that everyone is being nice and helpful, considering.

I had already ruined their meeting, got into a fight with America, got into a fight with Britain, ruined my would be relationship with the Axis, hurt myself, and now was adding more stress to the people that had come to get me to help? This whole day was a disaster, and I don't think that I can handle much more.

Anxiety hit me like a freight train, and I found myself breathing heavily. Everything seemed to move, though that was probably just me.

"Cole? Are you alright love?" I faintly made out Britain's voice over all the static and fuzziness. Was the static supposed to be there? I don't think it was.

"Breathe. In, out. Come on, you can do it, eh?" Canada spoke too, but the fuzziness clouded my brain so I couldn't follow what he was saying. My thoughts started becoming jumbled, fuzzy and close to impossible to make out.

My chest constricted painfully, my head was pounding. Sort of like drums. Ba-boom, ba-boom. Loud, and the noise covered everything else. I barely made out the blurred people in front of me to be Kat and Britain, while Canada was holding me up and guiding me to the car. Was I moving? I don't remember moving.

Short, sharp bursts of air. Who was that? Judging by the burning in my throat, it was probably me. The lightheadedness got worse. I couldn't really feel my legs. I think I was supposed to. Did I even have legs? I might not need them if I couldn't feel them.

"Oh god, she's having a panic attack. I haven't…" Someone was screaming something. Who was it? It sounded like Kat. But Kat left, right?

I barely heard my friends terrified voices as I passed out, into the supporting hands of Britain.

 _Were my eyes glued shut? No, I guess not, since they sprung open as if I was the most well rested person ever, like in those mattress commercials. I didn't have any pain, either, so it seems like most of my injuries were gone. Dreaming, then._

 _Everything was super green. The grass, I mean. It seemed peaceful, the sun was shining high in the sky, a slight breeze waved the long, tall grass blades in a calming rhythm. But something seemed off. Almost like doomsday was going to happen._

" _Not doomsday, but something similar, I suppose." A soft, calming and hinted with an Italian accent noise chimed through the air. It sounded familiar, someone I had heard before._

 _When I turned around, I was faced with someone who seemed like they knew more than they should, like they had seen everything, but somehow they had seen nothing. But still too much, since the person the eyes belonged to looked like they were in their mid-30's._

 _That's much too young to have seen it all, right?_

" _Who are you?" A soft, sweet sound came from my lips, nothing like my usual cracking. It was much too angelic and smooth._

" _I suppose I'm Holy Rome, and as you know me, Grandpa Rome. Perhaps my little Italy told you all about me?" He was dressed in ivory linens, soft to the eyes and probably silky to the touch. His hair was windswept, curls stuck out in random places, like it had been rapidly brushed through but kept carefully._

" _Not directly, but yeah, he did. They both did. How come you're here? This is a random ass field, and random ass empires don't randomly show up."_

" _You're dreaming. I came to talk to you and give you some advice. When empires die, they go to heaven, and then we can visit people. With a bit of incentive to the big guy in the sky, of course." He chuckled, amused by what I am assuming to be something he said._

 _A small flicker of recognition set me off. "You tied up God, AGAIN?!" He did it in the manga, too, right? Everything was coming back to me now, with a bit of prompting. I knew it all along, anyways._

" _Yes, but it had to happen. You're the talk of the town. Even my lady friends" Rome laughed before continuing, "happened to mention you. You know how beautiful they are? Oh, with their preciou-"_

 _I cut him off before anything nasty could be said. "Um, not, please? But geez, why didn't you just come visit me like with Italy and Germany? You don't have to hijack my dreams. It's my happy place, keeps me detached from reality, not that this is reality, but still."_

" _I didn't feel like it. And plus, Germania said that it wouldn't be a good idea, since you hate Germany and my grandsons and that Japan and everything, you know?" He waved his hand dismissively._

" _What was so important that you had to come talk to me about?" I rolled my eyes. What was up with this guy?_

 _G. Rome glanced at me before looking back at the sky. He changed the subject rather quickly. I don't think he's very keen to talk to me about whatever he was here to talk about. "How many languages can you speak?"_

" _Eleven." I played along. Whatever it takes to keep a dead dude happy._

" _You need to learn as many as possible, even the dead ones if you can. And learn the languages that you think would be most helpful in this war. It's a long, bloody battle, and even though I don't support the side you chose, you need to defend everyone. Master as many as possible in the short amount of time you have."_

 _I stared at him, dumbfounded. My butt was wet from the morning dew that covered the grass, but I ignored it as I looked to my right at the crazy Italian dude who was studying the clouds that cast shadows on the field._

" _Okay. But what's your message? I would kind of like going back to reality, you know."_

" _Don't rush into it. If there's one thing I learned, it's not to rush things in war. It doesn't help anyone or anything. Take your time and don't take the little things for granted. And another thing, you should probably become besties with the opposing force. I know you don't like it, but as the Earth, you don't exactly get to pick sides."_

 _What, I'm not supposed to pick sides? Screw that, I can do what I want, not because I can, but because it's the right thing to do._

 _I was firm in my answer. "No. I do what I want, and an empire that no longer exists doesn't get to tell me what to do. I'm sorry, Rome, but no. They killed millions, I don't excuse that." My arms crossed over my chest of their own accord._

" _You think that you're on the good side? Aren't you supposed to be intelligent?" G. Rome turned to face me, eyes hard with determination. "You don't remember what 'the good side' is doing, don't you?"_

" _Well, no, not-not really." I stuttered._

" _America, putting Japan's people into camps just like Germany. Communism, slowly and carefully taking over Russia and others. Russia has killed millions already, and yet you are still friends with him. Look, you have his burn on your leg." Rome motioned to my left thigh, where it had started to sting._

 _As I looked down, I saw that I wasn't wearing the same outfit. Instead, I was wearing a TARDIS blue shirt with the Doctor Who logo on the right corner, right below my shoulder, white shorts that went halfway to my thighs, and black socks. I didn't even have shoes on. My hair was loose, the small breeze in the air whipping it around._

 _The red mark on my leg burned the more I noticed it, as if it had been there the entire time. Indeed, it was Russia, and when it was identified, more small burns appeared next to it. Ukraine, Latvia, Estonia, and Finland. It looked like small parts of other countries were burning me, too. Maybe Poland, and what seemed to be Prussia, as well as Moldova._

 _My heart hurt at the thought of the annexed countries, the people terrified for their lives. Tears spilled from my amethyst eyes as the feeling of betrayal and anger solidified in me. "THAT BASTARD!" I screamed. "How could he?! I was his friend, damn it, the only one that willingly spent time with him!"_

 _Rome smirked. "Now you see. Both sides were equally evil, just working with different viewpoints and different views. They both fought for the same thing, though, did they not? It is always like this in war. Nothing is ever black and white."_

 _Was he right? Were the Allies really evil? What were they fighting for?_

 _No. They were not. They fought to stop the evil, they fought for justice and for what was right. This was brainwashing!_

" _No." I stared Rome in his equally hardened eyes, but at my exclamation, he faltered._

" _What? No?" He sounded surprised. He should be, I'm not the person he seems to think I am._

" _No. I refuse to believe you. I know that Russia did this, and I know that he is continuing to do this. Honestly though, I don't think that they fight for the evil thing. I've learned, I've studied, and I've spent countless nights searching through books and movies and documentaries to find the truth from both sides. You're wrong, I know it. Britain, America, France, China. They're the good guys, and I can't bring myself to believe that they would do anything to harm anyone without a good reason."_

 _Rome broke eye contact and once again studied the fluffy light gray clouds. "Alright, as long as you know what you are doing."_

 _The wind picked up, my long hair fluttering around like wildfire. It stung my cheek, but I ignored it as I continued to look at the fallen empire next to me. He didn't say anything, no reaction the seemingly oncoming storm that we were in the way of._

 _I don't know how I knew it, but I was waking up. Before the dream faded to nothing, I spoke in Italian, saying goodbye in the best way I knew how. "Come dice Feli, 'Hasta la pasta!'. Hanno un bel tempo in cielo, Roman Empire. Dillo Germania che lo saluto."_

 _(Translation: As Feli says, 'Hasta la pasta!' Have a nice time in Heaven, Roman Empire. Tell Germania I said hi.)_

 _He smiled as we faded to nothing, and I came back to reality._

"Cole? Cole, wake up! Come on…" Britain stood above me, worried, his brows high and forehead creased.

"Hey. Sorry- OW! What the hell is that? Why the HELL IS THERE A BLANKET OVER MY LEGS? MORON, RUSSIA'S BURN IS THERE! As well as like, everyone else's." I practically ripped off the sheets, the stinging burn not letting up. If anything, the cool air made it worse.

"Sorry, I didn't realize that you had other burns. And hold on, did you say… Russia?" Britain rubbed his forehead with his hand, obviously stressed out.

I replied, "Communism" just as the Allies rushed in the room, surprised to see me awake and alive, I guess. Russia was among them, an innocent smile on his face, until he saw the shape of his country on my thigh. Then it turned into something dark, twisted, and somewhat surprised.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:**

 **Hey y'all! I've been busy with High school, so I won't be able to update as much, sorry. I will try to have at least three chapters done in advance, since I hate when I have to write, even though I love writing. Does that make sense? I just kinda wish that my ideas would write themselves. Oh well. Enjoy this chapter!**

The room we were in was a light grey white, and I was on a bed, with a thicker mattress than what I would think would be there. The pillows that supported my back were soft, too, and they made me want to curl up and sleep.

Everything ached, and the injuries I got when I fell in the hallway were now dulled down to a minor sting, but the burns on my leg from Russia were bad.

Turns out what I was wearing in the dream was what I had been changed into while I was passed out. White shorts and a blue DW shirt.

They were shorts that openly showed the angry burns. And the Allies were now in the room, all open mouthed while they saw that the USSR was there, along with some that were still forming. America was the first to speak, shocked into staying stock still while gently moving his hand to one of his guns, presumably to shoot Russia.

"Hey, Cole dude, it's totes cool that you're awake and all that, but why is the Soviet Union one of your injuries?" His cobalt eyes looked scared, and I don't blame him. I was scared too. Russia smiled, but it was fake. Russia's right hand suddenly held the Magic Metal Pipe of Pain like it had been there the whole time.

"It is not your place, da? Stupid Americans should not stick their nose where it does not belong." Russia's voice was light and airy, like he didn't have a care in the world. The lines under his eyes, though, (not from smiling, he really wasn't smiling while he was talking, it was more like a sneer) said otherwise. He was worried.

"You no need to speak like dat, aru." China butted in, right before France and Britain started going at it, and America lost his cool. Canada sat unnoticed in the corner of the room, Kat nowhere to be seen.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, FROG?! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUTSIDE, AWAY FROM COLE! YOU PERVERTED CHEESE MONKEY!" Britain ran to France, promptly getting the two of them into a fight. France's retort made me want to giggle, but I couldn't really, since my nose had its own little cast.

"Non, I came to see the ma fleur, but I see you were too busy thinking of me to notice."

America blew up, offended at being called stupid. "HEY! I am not stupid, okay?! I totally know that the Earth is round and stuff, okay?!"

China just stood there for a second before walking out, muttering "Good to see you awake" and then adding "these stupid moron can't go two minutes without fighting".

"Bye China!" I had to shout over the fighting countries, but it was worth it. Saying goodbye is nice, especially when the person is really old.

And now to get them to stop fighting.

America was punching Russia in the face, but Russia didn't move and it looked like America hurt his hand. "What the hell, dude? Are you made of steel or something?" America barely lifted his head to gawk at Russia before Russia slammed the pipe into America's stomach. America was launched across the room, coughing and sputtering blood out of his mouth.

Meanwhile, three feet away from the two dueling and very competitive countries, France and Britain were strangling each other. I gave a hopeless glance to Canada, who had been watching me silently and carefully, gauging my reaction. He seemed surprised that I knew he was there, and shrugged when I kept up the wide eye look.

"Okay, looks like I have no help there. Now to stop a bunch of teenagers who CAN'T KEEP THEMSELVES CALM EVEN WHEN SOMEONE IS IN THE HOSPITAL!" That stopped them for a second, earning me a confused glance from the four, right before they went right back to fighting.

I sighed, and straightened my back. For the first time, I noticed that the sheets below me were really soft, and not rough like I remember them to be from when I was in the hospital. They were too durable to be normal hospital sheets, too, so I think someone brought them from their house. It's nice that someone did that for me.

As I thought about friends and how someone brought the blankets, I felt the betrayal. Russia had…

Killed.

Burned.

And lied.

I simply couldn't have that, but I can't get rid of him, so what was there to do? Lie.

Taking in a deep breath before yelling, I extended my lungs to their full capacity before screaming them out. "OKAY, THE FOUR OF YOU BETTER STOP RIGHT NOW. AMERICA, FRANCE, BRITAIN, AND RUSSIA, STOP TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER!" In my mind, I ended the sentence with 'before I beat you all up myself, but thankfully I didn't say it out loud. When I wake up I'm really angry.

Within a few seconds, they stopped. America walked over to where France and Britain were, on my sife of the room, and Russia stood by the corner of the room opposite to the door. He looked somewhat happy that I got America away from him, but I doubt that will last long.

Before I said anything else, I pointed to the red mark on my leg. Russia looked at me, a small glimmer of guilt shimmering in his lighter violet eyes. It's interesting how my eyes are much darker than his and Canada's. Maybe that has to do with how violent I am.

I wanted to yell at him, tell him why he was messed up, but he needed help, not yelling. Plus, I needed to cover for him. "Hey, it's no biggie. It just so happened that I was dreaming of the time Russia fought against the Teutonic Knights on the ice, and he won, (mostly because the ice on the lake broke), but that's besides the point. My view of the battle was from Prussia's view, so I got the mark."

He looked much more relieved when he realized I was covering for him. Everyone else seemed to buy the crap I was handing out, too, which was a huge relief on my part.

America, though, couldn't resist but to say, "Cole, don't lie. We know that the damn commie did something to you. You don't have to cover for him."

"America, I'm not lying. That's really what happened." Unconsciously, I pulled the blanket over my legs, hiding the large pink mark.

Britain scoffed.

Russia looked at me for a second, uttering a small, "Прости." It meant "I'm sorry", so he must have known that I was lying about what happened. The three next to me stayed silent as Russia walked over to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out. I could hear his heavy footsteps all the way down the hall, up until he left the floor.

Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes as the heavy feeling in my heart turned into something that I can only describe as what is comparable to when my depression was at its worst. Russia left, and I was covering for him. Why?

"Can you guys…" I trailed off. I didn't know what I wanted them to do. And I wasn't going to boss them around. Who was I to say anything? I may have the status of the Earth, but I have no experience in the area. I've lived for seventeen years, and Britain was 234 years old if I was to do the math for 1941. America was 165. France was old, I don't know exactly when he became a country, so I can't calculate his age. Canada was only 74 years old.

At that thought, I stopped thinking and exclaimed out loud, "Canada, you're only 74? Everyone else is way older than you, save for me. 234, 165, I don't wanna think 'bout Francie, and 74. You're young."

A series of collective "who?" erupted from the peeps next to me. (No, not real peeps. I would have eaten those. It means people!)

"Canada, morons." I didn't take my gaze from the surprised Canuck, who looking at me with an odd expression. I ran my hand through my hair, which was loose down my shoulders, jet black with the bright lighting, and pooling around my legs. It was oily, which meant that I had been out for more than a day. Now that I think about it, I should probably cut my hair since… You know, war?

"How did you figure that out so quickly?" He was quiet, yet somehow his voice still startled France, America, and Britain.

"AH! Who's there? I'll save you all, don't worry! I'm the hero!" America was shaking with fear, which was kind of funny to see. At the same time, it was sad because he's terrified of ghosts. It's because he can't beat them up, by the way.

"Bloody hell!" Britain exclaimed, surprised to hear anything. He was so British it's painful.

"Mon Dieu!"France didn't jump, rather he seemed surprised that Canada was here. "Mathieu! What are you here for?"

"He's been here the entire time, dumbass. And a high IQ, remember? It's not that hard, I just took the years you were founded in and subtracted it from 1941. That's still the year, right?" I jokingly snarked.

And since France was being an asshat, I couldn't resist rolled my eyes and slapping the back of France's head. Britain smirked in approval before nudging France really hard with his hip. My fingers kind of stung, but his hair was really soft. I really wanted to touch it again, it was like silk. I've never felt hair that soft…

"Cool. Maybe you could tutor Sealand?" Luckily Canada spoke and got me out of my daze, or else I might have actually put my hand back in France's hair.

"So Sealand is a microcountry? I didn't think he existed yet." I sighed. "Yeah, sure. As soon as I get better. Mm, nevermind. I might start tomorrow, considering that I probably won't be let out for a week, right? I'm going to be so bored." I huffed, my fingers still longing to stroke the softness that was the golden locks belonging to the annoying Frenchman next to me.

"Where'd you get a week from?" America asked. In response, I pointed to the suitcases in the corner of the room. They were mine.

"These wouldn't be here if I wasn't staying any less than a week. It's a waste to bring everything unless I was here for an extended period of time. And I'm guessing I was out for a day or so, too, right? My hair is sorta oily, and someone changed my clothes. Which for my sanity, I'm going to convince myself it was Kat."

"It was totally her, dude! And man, she can kick hard." America rubbed his left knee, so I'm figuring she kicked him in the kneecap. Just as I was about to ask what he did to get kicked, Britain interjected, "he kept flirting with her."

"Really? I thought that would be France." France shook his head, clutching his side. I guess Britain nudged him harder than I thought. "I do know when to stop. Unlike the tea drinking bastard." His voice was filled with bitterness and carried a sharp edge to it, obviously directed at Britain.

"Congrats. You're best buddies, now calling each other bastards. Chill, please. Too much testosterone." I grinned, happy to be able to tease them. The melancholy I was feeling still edged carefully on my sentence. Russia and China could have stayed.

"Very funny. I'm just happy you're alive, love. Did you have any dreams while you were… out of service?" Britain asked, genuinely curious. He had this weird look on his face, almost like he wanted to know something, probably having to do with my burns.

I couldn't really tell them that the Roman Empire visited me and told me to go on the Axis' side, now could I? So I told him something else. "No, nothing worth mentioning." For good measure, I glanced to the side and tried to blush. It worked, and I got their interest peaked, away from what would be a long conversation.

"Non, ma petite fleur, anything you have to say is important." France winked, and it seemed like Canada was once again forgotten.

America laughed, (I still wanted to tear my ears off) saying something like, "It was probably about Britain!"

This time, I blushed for real. That was not something that I wanted to talk about. I'm 17. He's 23 in human years. I would have to wait a bit anyway, even if it were to happen. And besides, it's only love if it's still an attraction after two years. In my book, at least. And it's just not worth it.

"No, it wasn't. It was just an episode of Hetalia, the one where Japan thinks about yodeling with Switzerland, and then Swissy gets all mad and hits Japan in the head and is all like 'what's wrong with you?!' It was a good episode." They all looked like they were going to explode of laughter, and America was shouting some nonsense, and as far as I could tell, he was imagining it.

He stopped laughing when I continued. "I laughed my butt off, but not as much as when America became friends with the whale and he had a ton of coffee so he could talk to it. You guys remember that, right?" Both Britain and America paled, and with a victorious grin, I continued. "And then Britain offered to be America's friend, and America looked like he was giving it some consideration, and then ran off screaming 'No way, sucker!' I loved that one. Did you guys? The day, not the episode."

A small snicker came from the corner of the room, where Canada sat in a grey metal chair. He tried to hide it, to be polite, but it was loud and everyone heard him. I laughed, and it sort of hurt my nose, but I tried to tone it down.

The countries were going to ask who laughed first, but before America could say something stupid, I shouted, "Canada, dumb butts! Honestly, how does he put up with you?" A look of recognition crossed over their faces, and Britain walked up the corner, where Canada was fully visible. How do they not notice him?

"Well hello there, old chap. I didn't notice you there, so sorry for the difficulty." So British. I might scream about the Queen and drink my Earl Grey tea while watching Sherlock. Of course, there would be a lion in the room and I'd have the Union Jack flowing majestically in the background.

"It's okay, I know I'm invisible to you guys." Canada seemed to channel so much anger and bitterness in that sentence, and it went unnoticed.

"Canada, how did you meet Kuma?" I tried to change the subject. I don't want to release his passive aggressive side, I mean, he made America cry after pointing out his faults for three hours. He brightened at my question, launching into a long story about how he met his polar bear.

"So when I was just starting out and I was under Britain's rule, he came over for a visit to check up. Of course, he didn't remember who I was or why he was there, but either way, on his way to my house, he found a starving polar bear, and he brought it with him. I named him Kumagera-"

I stopped him, "Kumajiro."

"Right, so then I fed him, and he's lived with me since then. The bear can't take care of himself, this one time, he forgot how to chew. I asked him, 'Kumamura'-"

Interrupting Canada again, I corrected his name for the bear. "Kumajiro".

Canada looked at me before continuing like I had never said anything, "how can you forget to eat? So yeah, that's what happened!" He gave us a cheerful grin, filled with everything happy and right with the world. In other words, everything Canadian.

"Speaking about that bear of yours, where is he? Doesn't he always come with you?" Britain asked, voice agitated. What was he pissed about now?

"Oh, he's at home with Kat. She stayed all day yesterday, and since she didn't get any sleep, I stayed today." At his explanation, I motioned to France.

"Frenchie! See that shiny thing on the table there? Gimme. Now. And if you drop it, so help you." I needed to call Kat and make sure she knew I was awake. Maybe I should call my mom, too? I don't know, I suppose I'll ask Britain later if it's a good idea.

France handed me my phone, carefully, but he checked his reflection as he was handing to me, blowing air kisses.

"Wow" was the only thing coming out of my mouth as roses flowered the air behind him. (Get it? Roses are flowers, you know, so the roses flowered the air? Not entirely grammatically correct, but for the sake of the joke. Yeah? No? *crickets chirping* Okay, I'll walk myself out now.)

"Thanks." I turned on the screen, happy to see it was at 98%. The screensaver still haunted me, and I could tell it showed since Britain smirked knowingly. "Shut up!" I tried and failed to get him to stop smiling, but I suppose no one can control him.

"Oh yeah, she charged it for you, too. Said something about you dying without it." Canada gently added. I say gently because everything he says is too quiet. Can he never speak up?

"Dude, what are you doing? Is that your phone thing?" America asked, hanging his head over my screen. I swatted at him, just barely missing Texas. (His glasses.)

"Yes, I'm calling Kat. She should know that I'm awake. And I might have to thank her for charging my cell. I'd internally die without it, my music is everything to me."

I was just about to click the phone call button thing to call Kat when she called me. I swiped to answer the call just before the ringtone rang (saving myself from explaining why my ringtone was America singing), and just barely said "Hello?" when she started screaming in my ear.

"Oh thank God, you're awake! Did someone wake you up? You should have woken up by yourself, right? How are you? I waited all day yesterday for you to wake up, and you didn't, you just muttered something about 'that bastard' and how he was a traitor or something. And don't worry, I was the only one in the room when that happened, so no one witnessed your weird sleep talking thingie. By the way you were talking though, I assume you were referring to Russia? You said that you were the only one who spent time with him or something." She sounded so excited.

I took in a deep breath before talking. "Yeah. I'll talk to you later about that. But hey, is there anything worth mentioning that's going on around now?"

"No, not really."

I grimaced. "What day is it?" If it was the day I was thinking of, bad day.

"The 19th. Why?" She asked.

"Because today Japan takes control of Hong Kong island."

"WHAT? I never learned about that, just about the Berlin Wall. Which we should go see, by the way, after the war is over and all. But how did you know that the burn was there while you were asleep? You were talking about it, remember?" Kat seemed suspicious, but I don't blame her.

It's just that, if I tell her, then the others will hear, and I don't need them to at all. They were all looking a bit too interested in this conversation anyway. On the other hand, if I don't tell them and they find out, then they'll get mad why I lied to them.

"Um. I would know, right? Maybe it was subconscious or something." I could practically hear Kat thinking over my explanation, and I was starting to sweat right before she answered with a happy "Okay."

"Thanks for charging my phone for me. Canada said that you stayed with me all night and day yesterday too. Thanks. Also, a bit cliché, but thanks for changing my clothes and picking out some weird ass shirt and crap. And the socks were a nice touch. Warm and fuzzy, though I only have one foot covered. Damn cast."

It wasn't a joke, I was grateful. I didn't want someone else to have me change, and besides, it'd be weird. At least it was my friend, and she at least knew what clothes I liked and which ones I hated. And the socks were awesome, they were infused with shea butter, so they were like lotion, but in fabric. When I take them off, I'll have super soft feet!

"No probs. Hey, do you want me to bring you something? I don't want you to live off of hospital food, that crap is nasty. And unfortunately, McDonald's hasn't opened yet, neither has Tim Hortons, so I'll bring ya something from a restaurant on my way there." Kat sounded optimistic, which wasn't really out of her personality. She goes from optimistic and happy to angry and bitter in less than a second, though most of the time, it's because she's reacting to me.

I'm a bit more dramatic than her. Oops?

"Yeah, can you get me a burger and a shake? And fries would be nice, too. And a sundae, but that's optional. You know, don't pick me up anything, it'll be fine. Thanks though." Halfway through I remembered that it's WW2, things are rationed, and the food might be expensive. And neither Kat nor I have any Canadian currency, and on top of that, we don't have jobs. Don't you just love traveling to other worlds and dimensions?

"You're worried about money, aren't you?" Kat laughed. "Don't worry, Mattie covered it all. Turns out, the Canadian government covers all of his expenses. I don't know if it has to do with the fact that he is actually the country itself, or what. And I have a job lined up, I'm gonna work as a secretary at a small law firm. Luckily I don't need experience, so that helps."

My brows raised. How did she get a job so quickly? Where did she even have the time to get a job? "Alright, I suppose. See you when you're here."

"Sure. Bye!" Kat hung up before I had the chance to say anything back, leaving me staring at my cell dumbfounded.

Everyone else was just watching me awkwardly while I turned off my phone and handed it back to France.

"Table, Frenchie." France took the phone and placed it super gently on the counter, still taking my last threat into consideration.

When I looked back, it was just to see America with his mouth open, and in a half smile. "That was so cool, I've like, NEVER seen anything like that phone thing! Can I have one?" He started jumping up and down, excited thinking that I would actually give him my phone.

I crushed his spirits with "No, it's mine. You can play on my laptop though. I have a few video games on it. Bob is in one of my bags."

"Bob?" France inquired. He seemed genuinely confused, almost like he'd never heard anyone name their possessions before.

"I named my laptop, a computer thingie. In my place, most teenagers have one, and almost every house has some type of computer. The computer doesn't exist since it isn't invented until 1943 and finished in 1946. It was huge, took up a ginormous room. But, um, basically wires and a screen. I can show you if you'd like."

They looked like they didn't really care, and that worked well for me since I didn't want to show them. They would probably never give it back, and I need Bob.

"Canadia would totally want to try it, wouldn't you, dude?! HAHHAHAHAH!" America's laugh wasn't getting any easier to bear.

"My name is Canada!" Canada tried to yell, but it just sounded like a loud whisper.

"Hmf. It shouldn't be that hard, Yankee. Though, considering, you don't know about any other country's locations besides yourself, so it's not a surprise." Britain added. He really didn't have to. (Really, he shouldn't have, now America is pissed.)

"OH YEAH?! At least I know that your place is nothing more than a huge island that's good for nothing but making tea! Why else do you think I declared independence?!" America blew up, faster than I thought he would.

This is not good. I didn't think that America would pull that card since he was so bitter about the whole darn thing. Britain looks angry, especially since America pulled up the tea thing. It's not true, but now that I think about it, it is a really good way to make Britain mad.

Canada paled, knowing what was coming. France nervously backed to the door, where he chuckled, saying lightly but anxiously, "I think I saw a pretty lady down the hall…" and dashing out.

Was that even his character? I thought that he would stay and cheer them on or get into a fight with Britain for the heck of it. Or he would try to get them to calm down. But on the calm down thing, Canada might do that, though I doubt he would take sides, as America was poking fun at him.

"Okay, you two. Chill, please." I tried to get them to calm down, but it didn't work. If anything, it heated them up even more.

"Did you hear the woman, America? She said to calm down, and I don't see you as calm. And besides, you only declared independence since you were a spoiled little brat that never knew what was good for him! It's a miracle that you even made it this far, all you have is hamburgers floating around in that little mind of yours!" Britain seethed.

Canada cringed and started moving for the doorway. Before he could get out, I quickly shot him a question in French so that hopefully the other two couldn't understand it. Though knowing the both of them, they knew more languages than they let on.

"Pourquoi ne pas vous aidez? Cela va exploser."

(Translation: French. Why aren't you helping? This is going to blow up.)

Canada stopped and answered back, "I'm not risking my life." With that, he was out the door and to what I can only assume, the chairs in the hallway.

"THIS IS NOT GOING TO BLOW UP! SEE, WE'RE PERFECTLY CALM!" Britain screamed. Oops, looks like Britain can speak French.

"And dude, Canadia never helps. Don't bother asking." At least America was calmer when talking to me. Britain blew his top off.

He took a deep breath before launching into a long rant about how the French sucked and I was taking their side since I speak French.

"The drunken cheese wheel is off his rocker, constantly pestering me and flirting with a rock if it'll move." After the first sentence, I tuned him out, so I just heard: "He's this and that and something else that I don't care to listen to…"

"Iggy, bro, she's not listening to you." America said, trying to get Britain to stop as well. Honestly, I didn't really care if he stopped or not, since I have mastered the art of getting people to say something else in my brain or blocking them out completely. I have a master's in the Dean Winchester School of Dealing With Life.

"Oh, right." He stopped, but I could tell that he wanted to keep going. Just to piss him off, I decided to only speak in French for the rest of the day.

"Combien de temps faut-il pour obtenir de la maison du Canada ici? Il a été comme, vingt minutes déjà." Britain's face dropped. I wish I would have been able to take a picture.

(Translation: French. How long does it take to get from Canada's house to here? It's been like, twenty minutes already.)

America responded in French, catching on to my game, but his American accent was painfully evident. "Si elle était d'arrêter pour la nourriture comme elle a offert de, il pourrait prendre environ une demi- heure ou plus. Croyez-moi, je me suis blessé assez dans les bois par sa maison pour savoir."

(Translation: If she was to stop for food like she offered to, it might take around half an hour or more. Trust me, I've hurt myself enough in the woods by his house to know.)

"Why are you all speaking that blasted language?! Did the bloody frog put you up to it?" Britain yelled, exasperated.

Grinning, I answered back, "Ne parlez pas l'anglais." They were really easy to rile up. And their arguments started just as quickly as they end.

(Translation: Don't speak English.)

Britain sighed, turning away from us. "Fine, I suppose I just won't communicate with you two then."

"Ça va, l'Amérique parle français, donc je ne peux tout simplement lui parler. Et en parlant de Frenchies, nous devrions probablement le Canada et la France ici. Et qu'est-ce que vous avez contre le français de toute façon? Il est pas le meilleur sondage , mais l'anglais est plus rugueuse."

(Translation: That's okay, America speaks French, so I can just talk to him. And speaking of Frenchies, we should probably get Canada and France in here. And what do you have against French anyway? It isn't the best sounding, but English is rougher.)

"Because the bloody wine loving cheese stick speaks it!" Britain shouted, beyond irritated. I didn't realize he hated French so much.

"C'est pourquoi? Décidément, Iggy, tu es dramatique." America chimed in while eating a hamburger. My stomach growled and I forgot all about speaking French to piss off the British dude. Of course, my game would resume after I was fed, but I had just gone two days without eating. I was hungry.

I narrowed my eyes dangerously, using my hardened violet eyes to strike fear into the heart of the food hogging nation. I didn't say anything, instead going for the 'silent but deadly' approach, just not in the farting context.

America didn't notice at first, but when he did, you could see the fear in his eyes. He held the hamburger close to his chest, eyes open wide. "Vous ne voudriez pas arriver à vouloir mon hamburger vous?"

(Translation: French. You wouldn't happen to want my hamburger, would you?)

"Oui, mon ami." Instead of going with no accent, I used a French one, which I mastered from all the years of trying to imitate France since the accent was outrageous. I also had down my German accent, but please don't ask me to do a Russian accent. I sound like a high eight year old on all the drugs in their parent's medicine cabinet.

America gulped, before stuffing the whole hamburger in his mouth.

"NON!" I exclaimed, shocked as to why in the world he would do that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note:**

 **Sorry, I know this update is really late. I've been SUPER busy almost every day of the week with something from school, and I haven't had time to write in advance. Here's a chapter, and again, so sorry for the late upload. Just a quick thing though, I might be uploading later and later. I don't really have time to write every day anymore. *sad face***

"America, you really should have given me the burger." I ground out. How dare he eat it! I mean, it was his, but still, how dare he!

He shook his head, and backed against the wall, protecting his bomber jacket pockets, presumably because his other burgers were in there. That little-

The door swung open, Kat standing there victorious, holding a brown paper bag with a big grease stain on the bottom. "Hey! I got your food! I got a cheeseburger, with an extra patty, fries, and a chocolate shake. I would have gotten you vanilla, since I know you're basic, but the chocolate is to die for. Not kidding."

"Perfect timing. Cole here was just about to kill the git for one of his hamburgers. To be fair, I would have cheered on, but it's a good thing you brought the food." Britain chimed, cheerful for once. Does he thrive on fighting or something?

Canada strolled in behind Kat. Once he was close to her, he wound his arm around her waist. She laughed and turned to him, grinning from ear to ear. She was about to kiss him, before realizing that we were in the room.

"Hey Mattie!" Was her embarrassed reply, trying to clear up the awkwardness, since America winked at them.

Canada blushed, embarrassed, while I shook my head in disapproval. PDA, anyone? It was like Kat read my thoughts, because she shot at me, "This isn't school, there's no PDA rule, Cole. Grow up. Besides, when you get a boyfriend-"

I cut her off, annoyed. "Not going to happen, butter cookie. No guy is interested. Now give me the food."

Behind me, Britain looked surprised, though I don't know why. Maybe it was because Kat came here right on time?

"Ask nicely."

"Please. And besides, if I wasn't injured, the food would already be in my hands. Fat lot of good you are." Kat reluctantly handed me the bag, while America and Britain smirked. America at least tried to hide it, but Britain was behind me on the verge of giggling. A gentleman, my ass. He was as unsophisticated as they come.

I chewed on a French fry, which tasted really good. They were more steak fries than anything else.

If I could have been able to walk, I would have slapped Britain's shoulder and challenged him to a duel,  
but since I was injured, I settled for a simple word to make my point. "Asshole." I wasn't particularly quiet when I said it.

Britain glanced at me, "What was that?" He seemed annoyed.

I smiled, meeting eyes with America, who was beyond amused. "Nothing, Britain, dear. Now please, go back to drinking your tea with the Queen. I'm sure she's lovely. Oh wait, you haven't got a Queen, just a King's consort. Right, my mistake, lovely, go and drink tea with King George the sixth." I spoke in an overly pompous British accent.

"Burn!" Kat shouted, laughing. Even Canada laughed, but America drowned him out. Damn it, he couldn't tone it down?

Almost instantly regretting my words, not because I was afraid of Britain, but because it was really mean, I shut up and looked down at my food. "Sorry, that was mean. Shouldn't have said that, it came out wrong. I meant it in a more… kinder tone." I royally screwed up my grammar, too.

No one else heard me, they were too busy laughing, but I know Britain did, and in an effort to clear my mood, he playfully shot back, "Oh love, haven't you heard? I can't, you threw all the good tea in the harbor. Alas, all we have left is raspberry leaves. But since we can't be drinking tea with our King or King's consort," putting extra emphasis on consort, "perhaps you should be enjoying yourself with a nice hamburger with the President."

I was still crestfallen, but I played irritated. I have no doubt that everyone could see through it, though. America didn't seem to notice, not paying attention to the atmosphere and all.

"Oh, you got served!" Kat hissed, barely able to control herself. She looked over at her boyfriend, Canada, who was now crinkling his forehead, noticing my forlorn mood, was about to ask what was wrong, when Kat interjected, "Okay, I'm glad you have your food, and you're okay, but I have to talk with Mattie. We'll be just outside the door, okay?"

What was with that? She just got here, and I wanted to talk to her for a little. It's been killing me to know what Canada's house looks like!

America stayed in place, not wanting to leave, and still cracking up, but on their way out, he was grabbed by Kat.

"HEY! LET ME GO!" America frantically waved his arms around, and almost got free, but Canada grabbed his other arm, dragging him to the door.

"Why are you all so weir-" I was cut off by the slamming of the room door, leaving Britain and I alone.

"Okay, I only know of one way to put this: What the hell just happened? Everything was fine, besides my screw up, and then they're gone? Did you have anythin' to do with this?" I looked over to Britain, who seemed just as shocked as I was.

"No idea." Was his simple answer.

It was silent for a moment, and the only thing heard was frantic whispering, then a loud, "OH! So they like each other? But that doesn't make sense, 'cause, like, Britain hasn't asked Cole out or anything. And I thought he liked France-" from America. He was cut off by horrified gasping, with a French accent. I guess France was still out there.

Loud shushes followed, then a bunch of laughing and what faintly sounded like "Britain and Cole, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then here comes Cole with a baby carriage!" It continued, but disgusted, I tuned out.

Britain was red in the face. He looked like he was going to explode, but before he did, I spoke. Thinking now, though, it was not a good idea.

"Ignore them. Kat sees love where it's not, and she ships almost everything with everyone. Plus it'd be irresponsible for me to have a boyfriend, since I need to focus on school and everything. I mean, I am graduated, and I was just staying behind through this one special program so I was taking College courses and crap, but I set this rule thing for myself so that I wouldn't date anyone till I was 18, 'cause then I could ge-".

"Stop talking. It's annoying." Britain cut me off.

Well that was rude. "Okay, fine. All you had to say was stop or something, and I would have. You really didn't have to add the other part- and you know what? WHY ARE YOU SUCH A FREAKING ASSHOLE? You've been rude and pessimistic all day, and I'm sorry for that thing earlier, and thanks for the thing that you did. But you've been really rude and generally disrespectful." I shouted, angry. I sounded like a broken record, constantly repeating the same word, and general phrase, but I was too mad to care.

So angry, in fact, that I didn't stop there.

"You are pessimistic, hate everything, you're a smartass, you are annoying-"

"I AM NOT!" he interjected.

I continued as if he hadn't said a thing, "You are the most irritable person I have ever met. You're gloomy, never see the light in anything unless it's fighting with France or America, and you always have this far off look. You're nothing like you are in the anime!"

At this, Britain blew up himself. "I'm not supposed to be like I am in your world! This is not the world you were thinking of, we are not little molds that can fit in your tiny perception! Everyone is different, the Frog doesn't flirt with everything, America is not always irritating, and I am not happy! We are in a war, Cole. No one is happy, and this didn't turn out how I expected."

A sharp sting across my face felt like a slap, but Britain hadn't raised a finger. My stomach churned, angry and upset.

Britain stopped for a second, panting, before continuing.

"And if we're talking about my bad qualities, which I am bloody well aware of, thank you very much, dear, there's an even longer list for you. You are the most sarcastic, barmy woman I have ever met. You are ridiculously angry, you're always threatening this and that, and frankly, I think you've lost the plot!"

"So? The whole point of this conversation was to ask you what was wrong!" I said. I refuse to calm down.

"Look at you now, love, putting all the blame on me. For once, when I care about somebody, it's a bad thing, is it? For years I stayed away from most people, since everyone knows how I was a pirate, but a bloody good one at that. Then when I finally start opening up, I end up getting some git!" Britain shouted, exasperated.

"I am not a git! And good job on opening up, but that's not the point, why are you always so damn irritable?!"

He barely took in another breath before yelling, "Because I'm worried!"

"Being worried doesn't give you an excuse to be an ass." I retorted.

Britain scrunched up his face, his nose now looked like a little bunny nose. If I wasn't so angry, I would have booped it.

To be able to yell easier, I sat up straight, my good leg under me. Not that it would have done me any good, since this argument was coming to a close.

"I've been worried about everything, from the war to how I'm supposed to deal with you. It's ridiculous." Britain said some other stuff, but I retreated into my mind, thinking about the situation. Besides, he was just complaining about some political stuff, which I honestly don't care for. Never did, politics drain me.

Had I been actually putting everyone into molds and expecting them to act that way? I had, hadn't I?

I had expected France to be the one flirting with Kat, I had expected America to be annoying, so I reacted more negatively when he was annoying, and I was always expecting Britain to be angry. Maybe he was just reacting to that?

And if I was, had I been doing that to not only France, Russia, and everyone in this insane Hetalia world, but my own family and Kat? Maybe my tripping was not an accident, maybe I wouldn't be thinking about this if my injuries hadn't happened.

And Russia, I'm not sure what to do about that. It's hypocritical to not cut him off, since I had ruined any chance of being somewhat close to any of the Axis, when in reality, Russia had killed more than Germany would ever. How do I even approach this situation?

Looking at it from my perspective, I can easily justify what I had done. The Axis as a whole were slaughtering people, by the millions, just because they thought they were supreme. Well, Germany and Japan. Italy joined to join.

But looking at it from theirs, what they were fighting because they were ordered to. It may be wrong, and God knows if they know it, but they were swept into the brainwashing and fascism. Russia was the same. The communism had brainwashed him to some degree.

But how to deal with someone who believes that what they are doing is right when it's blatantly obvious that it's wrong?

Do I continue to cut myself off of all contact, and ruin any chance of reconciliation, or do I build up my relationship with them and give them some chance to redeem themselves? And what if the more I hate them, and the more they hate me, the more accident prone I am, and the worse the burns will get?

Hold on, speaking about my burns, they sting, but I don't feel anything in my nose or foot. They felt normal. I wiggled the tip of my nose, and it didn't hurt. Next was my toes. Nothing. What about my ankle? It was hard, since my foot was in a cast, but I pulled and pushed it a little, which would have made me scream had it been injured, but once again, I felt nothing.

Britain continued talking about how messed up everything was, but it sounded like he was near the end, so I let him finish. He stopped mid-sentence when he felt how intently I was staring at him.

Self-consciously, he asked, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

I shook my head, and in a not quite flat tone, informed him what I had just discovered. "My nose and foot are fine, they don't hurt at all. The burns are as bad as ever, but everything else is healed."

He looked at me for a second before stepping over and tapping my nose, hard.

"HEY!" I cried out in shock. "Why did you do that?"

"To see if it was still broken. Apparently not. I'm going to get the doctor." Britain rushed out of the room, right into Canada, who had stood up to see what was wrong.

"MAPLE! Sorry, Britain." Canada apologized, even if it wasn't his fault.

The door closed, but I could still faintly hear them speaking.

"Cole said that her leg and nose don't hurt anymore, and when I pressed her nose, she was just surprised, not in pain. No one has ever healed as fast as she has, and I don't know of any countries besides, well, perhaps Prussia, at the height of his power as the Teutonic Knights." He took a few pauses while he spoke.

"Maple. I'll go get a doctor then."

I didn't bother hearing anything more, instead taking out my hamburger, slightly melted shake, and half empty fries and munching carelessly on them.

"Hot damn these are good." I spoke with my mouth full of fries, happy as could be. "Although they could have put more cheese. And who knew that that would be something I would comment on, ever." I smiled, awkwardly, as I took out another huge chunk of my hamburger. Then a sip of my chocolate shake, which luckily for Kat, was just as delicious as she said it was, followed by a French fry.

Just then, Kat walked in my room, striding carefully to the edge of my bed, carefully eyeing my leg. I noticed, much to her dismay, and commented right as she was balling up her fist to punch my leg, "Honestly, I wouldn't do that unless you have a death wish, but you know, that's just me. The food doesn't make up for that, by the way, so you'd owe me way more if you did hit my leg."

She stopped in surprise, thinking I was too absorbed in my food to notice her here. She had stalked into my room ever so carefully, after all.

"How…?" She asked, bewildered.

"I saw you, I can see, after all. And by the way, you owe me for singing about me and Britain. I'm not into him." I lied through my teeth. "Besides, what are you, in kindergarden? Really, 'sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g'? Real mature of you." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever, I think you're faking to get out. I know how much you hate wasted time, you'd do anything to get out of here."

She really didn't know me that well, did she? I hate wasting time, yes, but only when voluntary. Besides, my whole life was wasted time.

"Nah, I could chill here for a bit. The only thing I'd be behind on would be exercising, but I'd be ahead in my Finnish lessons. And who else has people that speak every language on earth at their disposal? How many languages do you think I could learn while I'm here?"

"Yeah right. Then get up and walk, with your cast off." She challenged me.

"Do I have to? I'm so comfortable, food in my lap, neither of my legs are asleep." I teased her.

"Yes, get. Come on, up!" She motioned to my legs hastily, not a patient bone in her body.

Groaning, I placed all of my food beside me, and pushed off my blankets. I threw my heavy leg with the cast off of the bed and leant down to take it off. Luckily, it wasn't plaster, and neither was the cast on my nose. The cast on my nose was thick tape, which I could peel off with minimum difficultly after the cast on my foot was off.

There were three buckles holding the cast together, which I undid with ease. Then I peeled off the nose tape, for Kat to wrinkle her nose.

"It's bruised, purple and gross."

"I know, it's going to be like that. You've never seen anyone with a broken nose before? Geez." I sassed.

Everything felt okay, my nose didn't hurt at all. I took a step forward, happy to finally be out of bed. I wobbled a bit, since I hadn't walked for a bit, but otherwise was fine. Nothing hurt.

"Oh! Suck it, I knew I was okay! AHAHAHAHAH!" I laughed, overjoyed.

Kat's eyes were wide. "Not fair! How do you get to recover so quickly?"

I stopped for a moment to think exactly how. "Maybe it's my status as the Earth or something? I know that the countries heal really fast or almost instantly." That seemed plausible. Really, it did.

"Yeah, maybe. Hey, do you think we'll get to meet Prussia? I wanna see exactly how 'awesome' he really thinks he is." Kat asked.

Damn, it was so easy to put them in a mold, huh? Even Kat did it.

"I don't know." I answered with uncertainty.

I'm going to try to avoid having expectations of them before I meet them.

An older dude wearing a white lab coat walked into the room, followed closely behind by Britain and Canada. I'm guessing by the lab coat that he was a doctor.

"Hello, are you miss Cole West Matthews? I see you're up already, and no cast." He asked. His voice was gruff, deep and scratchy, from too much yelling, I'd guess.

"That'd be me." I chirped.

He smiled at my optimism. "I'm Dr. Yendrea, and Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Matthews" I raised my brow at Canada's first human name being used as his last "here came to tell me that you're feeling alright. I suppose they were not lying." Dr. Yendrea took a pause before continuing, glancing at a clipboard in his hands. "Any relation between Mr. Matthews and yourself?"

Shaking my head, I objected the notion. "No, sir. We just happen to know one another. And if I may ask, who provided you with my full name? I don't think Arthur or Matthew know my middle name."

Kat glanced at me worriedly. "I did, they had a slot for it, so I put it in. That's okay, right?"

Did I seem upset? "No, it's alright, I was just surprised that it was on file. Thank you for filling it out, though."

I tried my best to speak professionally and kindly. Plus, I don't think that the informal type of way that Kat and I speak is very welcomed in a time like this.

"Sure." Kat said.

Dr. Yendrea looked between the two of us, brow furrowed in thought. "Is there any relations between the two of you, or just friends?" He asked awkwardly. Does his job make him ask so many family questions?

"Sisters from different families" was my curt reply. He really needed to stop asking so much, it's overstepping.

"I see." He pursed his lips together. "Sit on the bed, please. I need to check your leg, and then your nose. Magical healings like this don't happen every day, you see."

"We just need to know if she's okay, and a quick look should tell you." Britain said, none too kindly.

Canada tapped Britain's arm, trying to get his attention as he whispered, "He needs to check her."

"I thought you were finally done being a jackass. I guess not." Maybe not the right thing to say, but I'm still mad. Emotions don't disappear as quickly as you think they do.

"Cole, don't start another fight, eh?" Canada tried, in vain.

Everyone watched with growing caution, letting us blow off steam for the time being but prepared to break it up if it got too bad.

It takes less than a second for Britain to react. "I'm the jackass? Have you looked at yourself, love?" 'Love' was condescending in this particular tone of voice. "At least I'm not the one who trips on magical carpets and hurts themselves. It's like you fall on your nonexistent shadow!"

Oh, so he wanted to play that way? I have plenty to retort back with.

Just as I opened my mouth, I shut it again. Crap, it would be bad if I brought up Flying Mint Bunny, Britain is always teased for that. And I'm sure he does exist, especially if I can see Cotton, then FMB is bound to be somewhere.

Britain smirked, thinking he had won, not realizing that I held more power than I was willing to dish out.

I don't think that I'm going to be bringing up that topic any time soon, no matter how angry Britain makes me.

"Sorry, Matthew, you were right. I really shouldn't have started this. Sorry, Arthur." I resisted the urge to call him King George or Iggy, just to prove a point. I have to be more mature than that.

Britain's smirk didn't budge as the Doctor hesitantly started looking at my leg.

"Tough day, huh?" He asked, careful about how he spoke.

"Yes, in a manner of sorts." I looked up at the ceiling, brimming to the edge with sealed in anger. I hadn't exercised in a few days, that might be it, too.

But man, I really wanted to let all of this anger and frustration out, but I don't think I can do that safely, at least not when someone else is in the same room as me.

I wonder if Britain or Canada have a punching bag and boxing gloves?

"Your leg seems to be alright, so let me check your nose." Dr. Yendrea rose to look at my nose, tapping it lightly. It was nowhere near as hard as Britain had tapped me, so I didn't react at all, just continued looking around the room as he checked the sides and tip.

"You just seem to have light bruising, but I'm guessing you have a high pain tolerance since you didn't react when I tapped you. It should be healed within a few days, but judging by how fast you healed with a twisted ankle and broken nose, give it a few hours."

"Thanks. Can we go?" I asked, itching to explore Canada. It was really big, and besides, I hadn't really explored anything besides the US. Typical American, right?

"Yes, I'll get your release papers going now. You'll leave in around half an hour." Dr. Yendrea announced as he left the room.

"Thank you very much." Canada was the only one to thank the Doctor for actually coming to check my no longer there injuries.

"You know, there's studies that say that people who fight a lot are actually in love." Kat was really pushing it, wasn't she?

Britain and I said at the same time, "shut up" with the variation of "bloody git" and "Kat" at the end. Can you guess who said who? Here's a game of 'SPOT THE BRITISH ACCENT'!

"OH!" Kat put her hand on her heart, faking being offended, ever the drama queen. "I'm so hurt. After all, it's plain as day that you two like each other. I mean, look at Arthur, the valiant knight in shining armor who saved the damsel in distress, and then they live happily ever after. And Cole, the damsel who fell in love with the handsome knight, and who knew?! The knight is a Prince, ready to share his throne with the damsel, who is really a princess! Oh, such a turn of events."

I grinned as she continued. I can tell this is going to turn into a play of sorts. Kat has done this before, after she learned it from me. Now she's really good. She even came up with a full song before, based on a goober that tried to run away from a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a janitor.

…

Don't ask how it happened. Finals fried everyone's brains at some point.

"But, oh no, there's a witch who has decided that they are not fit for one another! She poisons a pig, and presents it to the two as a wedding gift, hoping to catch them unawares and kill them!" She posed in a dramatic fashion, holding the back of her hand to her forehead.

"But then, the witch's hopes and dreams crashed to the ground" she made an exploding sound "when the princess' favorite maid tries the roasted ham to make sure that it's not harmful to her dear royal employer." Kat imitated the maid trying the pork, then fell into the arms of Canada, who caught her, in the midst of his surprise at her fall.

She bounced right out of his arms and pecked him on the lips, then went right back to her dramatic reenactment.

Canada was left blushing, looking on as his girlfriend swayed across the floor, acting like the plate was shattered on the ground and others were rushing to clean it up.

"The maid fell to the floor, struck dead by the deadly poison of the wumbawungabunga tree." I giggled at the odd name of the tree. It seemed as if Britain and Canada were getting some form of amusement out of this, too, though I think Canada is trying to see if Kat is going to fall into his arms again.

"The princess rushed to her dear maid's side, comforting her through death. But alas, she was already dead before the princess got to her side. The princess was so overcome with grief that she cancelled the wedding!" She acted shocked, opening her mouth in an "O" shape and placing her hand over it. She was good, to say the least.

"The prince was devastated, saying" she lowered her voice a ridiculous amount, "'Woe is me, for I will never find another lover!' He fell on the ground, in a deep sleep, for his mind could not comprehend such a terrible travesty."

She waited, though we didn't know why. Then Kat finally motioned to Canada, saying, "you're the prince. Fall." In the plainest voice she could manage.

In what only can be described as panic and the moment of understanding, Canada toppled to the ground more gracefully than the best of actors. Really, it was like a maple leaf being swept by the breeze on a sunny day with no clouds, when the sun is setting, falling to the ground, swaying sweetly like the best of the fallen fall leaves. And when it finally lands, you can't believe the phenomenon that you had just witnessed, a gift from God Himself, the most beautiful of the graceful and orange. It was just like Canada.

That was oddly descriptive.

Anyway!

"'Oh, no!' uttered the princess, as she now had to deal with not one, but TWO! of her lovely friends, who were now either dead, or in a restless sleep, either way far from the terrible reality that the princess herself couldn't escape." Kat sat on the ground and gently grabbed Canada's head, pulling him to her lap, still acting.

"In a valiant attempt to console her fallen knight, the princess stroked her beloved's soft blonde locks, torn inside…" She closed her eyes, and I actually felt sorry for the princess. Geez, Kat was good.

"As if to signal that she would be there when he woke, the princess kissed her loved prince tenderly, filled with passion and admiration of his great and upcoming kingship." Kat kissed Canada, with an evil smirk on her face, knowing fully she ruined the entirety of the 'play' she had hooked me into.

"EW! PUBLIC DISPLAY OF AFFECTION! PDA! PDA! Y'ALL NASTY!" I screamed, turning away, grossed out.

Britain gagged, pretty silently but I still heard him. "You are the scum of the earth, creating a play like that, making us like it, then ending it there. Bloody hell, it was good, too."

"YES! You said it! It's the evilest thing ever!" I turned to Britain, nodding. He smiled, but it was more like a cringe since Kat and Canada were now full on making out.

"Can you two go someplace else, please?" I asked, pretending to be angry. They could go to another room, Canada's house, someplace secluded a thousand miles away. You know, all of the above could work, too.

Kat finally broke away from her 'beloved' and glanced at us, grinning. There was evil behind that grin, I'll be the first to say it! "You two are just grossed out because neither of you are in a committed relationship. Babies."

Canada was blushing, embarrassed. He avoided our gazes, instead grabbing Kat's hand and focusing on that. However, he did stay on the ground, perfectly content to lay his head in her lap.

To be honest, I wasn't that grossed out, it just… It sort of hurt. Kat was only kissing Canada in front of us to make fun of me and my lack of anyone's interest. Britain was in no way interested in me, and what part of my not wanting a relationship does Kat not understand?!

I don't want a boyfriend until I'm old and mature enough to consider myself okay to have a boyfriend. Relationships should not be half assed, and they take time and trust to form, one of which I don't have. Too many people had turned and stabbed me in the back because I was different after I told them something for me to trust anyone easily.

"Love, we should probably get your release papers ourselves. The bloody git hasn't gotten them quickly enough." Britain urged me to get out of the room, though I don't know why.

Kat whistled. "Yeah, you two, go off. On your own. To get the papers. Right?" What was she implying?

"Kat, you're crossing over a boundary that I put into place when we first became friends. Don't cross it." I warned, really angry now, not pretending. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, though I wasn't overly emotional. Why must I have been born a girl? It's so unfair.

"If you want to go get the papers, I'll come with you." I told Britain as I headed for the door, purposefully avoiding Kat's questioning glance.

The tears kept gathering as I made my out, Britain followed close behind me, his shoes making the tiniest bit of noise as we walked down the tiled floors. My bare feet were exposed to the cold floor, so I curled in my toes a bit, shocked by the unwelcomed temperature. When I had been standing in the hospital room, the tile warmed beneath my feet since I was standing in one place for so long, but now that we were moving, everything was freezing.

I made sure to keep ahead of Britain as we walked, so he couldn't see my eyes.

The two of us were halfway to what I assumed to be the lobby when Britain spoke up.

"You know, it's perfectly alright to cry every once and a while."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note:**

 **Hey guys, I finished a chapter and wanted to upload it as soon as possible. Please enjoy and let me know if you have any feedback or would like to see anything happen further along the line, I could always use ideas. Still busy, if not more so, since now I'm going to Hockey lessons and have started doing physical therapy (for my scoliosis) 3 times a week. I will upload as soon as I finish another chapter, I promise!**

I closed my eyes, careful so that the tears wouldn't spill over. "Who says I'm crying?"

Crap crap crap… How did he know? Was I that obvious?

"Your face. You look upset, and then you try to hide it. People mostly do that when they're going to cry." Britain commented. He seemed to genuinely care. I don't know... should I tell him anything?

"I'm okay, thanks though." I kept walking. By now, I was sort of used to the floor, though it was still cold.

"Cole, if you're upset, you know you could talk to me. God knows how many times I've needed to talk to someone. But really, love, if you need to vent or if you just need to sob, I would be happy to listen." Britain smiled.

How do I deflect this conversation off of me? I don't like the attention, as nice as it is. It's just weird to have something positive, after so long of being bullied and made fun of. I only had one friend, and that was Kat, so trying to react to social situations is kind of difficult for me.

"Hey, we're almost there. It's just one paper, right?" I asked, maybe just a tad too eager.

Britain sighed, but answered nonetheless, "Yes, it's a paper that you sign for yourself. I got you citizenship papers and passports to both my place and America's, since I know that you're American and all. It says that you've completed your schooling on some other documents, and you might have to take a test so that we can have that on file should you choose to fight with us."

"Yeah, thanks. I really appreciate it." What positions could I get as a woman in the 40's anyway? After a moment's hesitation, I asked curiously, "Hey Britain?"

He hummed in response, waiting for the question.

"Who's your best friend?"

Britain stopped, a bit startled. "I… I don't know. I suppose it would be America or France or something. I guess I don't really have one." He finally said.

Oh. So he didn't really have one. I can relate to that, at least my earlier days can.

"Meh. I'll be your friend then." I uttered.

"I'm sure, love." He smiled, but not the cute, happy smile, more the thing that I was doing now. Fake, trying to cover up his real emotions and seem happy. He was just doing it to make me happy. Maybe I should tell him.

"Hey, we can head over to your place tonight? I can't wait to see Britain, all of its awesomeness, and super cool weather, and oh yeah, I have to meet your leaders, too, right? Does it rain all the time? Gosh, I love rain."

He confirmed with a nod of his head. "Yes, of course, we head over tonight. America said he would fly us over. It does rain often, so I would think that you would enjoy that. You might want to bring an umbrella."

"Nice. Can I meet your brothers? Specifically, Scotland?" They were super cool. Not as cool as Britain, but cool.

"I suppose. We all live in the same house, anyway, so you would meet them whether or not I'd like you to. Just don't pick up smoking?"

"Sure. Besides, smoking gives you lung cancer, and your guys' cancer treatments suck. Hmph, I can't believe that science is so behind." I replied. Doesn't France's 2p smoke?

Now that I think about France, I just remembered. In one episode of Axis Powers, he wasn't invited to an after meeting party, and then Germany invaded.

Was that the 1940 something invasion, or was it more recently? And then, when Britain was having tea, he was distracted and was caught by Germany. Another thing, when Italy was spying on the Allies in one of their meetings. Good things to remember.

We made it to the front desk, where an older lady who I estimated to be in her mid-seventies was sitting in an uncomfortable looking grey chair.

Her dark purple cardigan and super messy bun, no makeup, and blank paperwork all over her desk screamed 'I'm ready to retire or die, whichever comes first'. I did like her cardigan, though, but the way she put it on was messily done and everything was untidy.

"Cole W. Matthews. I'm here to get the hospital release form, please."

She looked up at me from above her cat eye glasses. They were wire frame, too, which makes sense, considering that I don't think plastic has been invented yet.

"Over in that basket, honey." She slurred her words, heavy with a French Canadian accent. It sounded almost like it was from some unknown country in Europe. (I know, not a good description, but there's no other way to explain it.)

The way she spoke was not pleasant, her voice deep and scratchy. The faint stink of cigars confirmed that she smoked. Her hacking cough just then only further proved that she was probably a frequent smoker.

Funny how we were just talking about Scotland, who was a heavy smoker.

"Thank you ma'am. And I really like your cardigan; it compliments your eyes nicely. Purple is a beautiful color on you." It really was nice, and her eyes were the most beautiful blue brown ever, and I didn't think the two colors could go together that nicely.

As an afterthought, since the hatred for the way I looked was so deep rooted, I commented, "I wish I had them."

She smiled, almost like she was really touched. "Thank you young lady, no one has called me pretty in years. Have a pleasant day." She went back to her paper, now working with vigor.

"Of course. Thanks for the paper." I walked back to the room with Britain, making sure my gaze was nowhere in his path.

"You wish you had her eyes?" He inquired.

I shook my head. "Well, duh, I hate my eyes. They were only useful when cosplaying. And now that's weird to say since the person I would sometimes cosplay is right in front of me and you're like, buddies with the others that I acted as and went to conventions… Yeah, I'm gonna stop talking."

Why was he acting like he was surprised? Hadn't I already told him that I hated the way I looked? That might have been Canada. I tried to remember, racking my brain and sorting through crap. When I didn't find anything, I just gave up. Oh well.

And how awkward is it that I cosplayed and acted to the best of my ability the people that I've now *mostly* met? I'm never going to mention something like that again.

Ever.

Noticing how awkward I was acting now that I had dug myself into a large hole, Britain changed the topic pretty quickly. "Do you like ice cream? There's a small shop down from the airport. I'd be glad to take you."

"Yeah, sure, if it's not too much of a hassle. I wouldn't want to impose, not that I'm not already. I really am sorry…" I trailed off, tears beginning to gather again.

I'm not going to cry in front of anyone, I refuse to. I'm stronger than that, only the weak me would do that. And I'm not super emotional, either, so there's no excuse. Britain wouldn't care anyway, he's so negative about everything else that he'd probably just criticize why and how I cry. Maybe, maybe not. Hr actually seems to be somewhat nice to me.

"Love, if you're not feeling well, you can stay tonight and be released tomorrow morning. Do you have a headache? Do you need more medicine? I know that Kat told me you like most of my teas, I can make you some Earl Grey when I'm back home." Britain said, trying to seem like he wasn't bothered.

God damn he was a really bad actor. He seemed so concerned, and his effort of hiding it was useless. Best spies in the world my ass. He couldn't act worth shit, no wonder he was caught by Germany so often.

"Britain, just wait for me outside, I'll bring my stuff." I smiled at him as I walked into the room. I felt useless, but that doesn't mean that I should make everyone else feel as useless as I felt. How useless is that?!

He stopped, waiting, as I walked over to the door. Britain followed slowly as I made my way into the room. It stank of disinfectant and linen.

Outside of my room, everyone was gone, so either they were in the room or they were inside. I hesitantly pushed open the door, hoping that it would be empty. No such luck, everyone was in there, including Russia, excluding China.

Hasn't he already left?

"Cole! I see you are awake!" Russia joyfully declared. Was he really? I can sense some sinister intentions in that somewhat of an innocent comment. "Walking, too?" He asked as an afterthought, as I walked over to my bed.

"Yep, I'm doing great, thanks, Russia."

America jumped in, as Russia was talking, interrupting him. "Yo, dude, it's so cool that you're fine now!"

America's interruption of Russia spurred the chattering of everyone else, Kat, Canada, France, and even Russia, who was now angry that America talked over him.

"How are you doing?" Kat was the loudest, talking over everyone else.

Canada was saying something, but I couldn't hear him over all the chattering. France was winking and saying something about how "if you heal so quickly, I can imagine how that would come in handy, ma fleur."

I wrinkled my nose at his comment. The whole situation was ridiculous, and I was overwhelmed with everyone. "France, let me put this into terms you'll understand. Non."

In the corner of the room, I spotted my flip flops. Maybe Kat put them there for me for when I woke up? I slipped them on. Either way, they were mine and I wouldn't be barefoot anymore.

"How can you be doing the walking right after injury?" Russia asked. "Surely it was America, da? Was he so irritating you walked away?" He giggled.

"No." I spoke, defending America, not that it mattered. They weren't paying attention to me anyways.

America turned to him, saying, "Damn commie bastard. She got up and walked on her own, didn't you hear Kat?"

Russia smiled. "Het. I will hear from Cole whether or not she did the getting up on her own."

At this, Kat jumped in, saying, "She ripped off her cast 'cause I didn't believe her that she was healed and all that, and she just got up and walked. Not that you would know that, considering that you weren't here to support her."

I interjected, "You weren't here to support me, you didn't believe a word I was saying." They gave me a blank look, then went right back to talking and arguing with each other. No amount of waving my arms frantically got them away from their heated conversation. They kept talking, insulting one another, bombarding the other person with stupid comebacks.

"You're the one that she got injured because of!"

"It was not my fault. You heard her, da? Cole said it was when she was dreaming of my choking Prussia after he did the attacking." Russia was concerningly calm.

"Shut up! It doesn't matter, and you dumbasses are so stupid that you don't notice it! She can do whatever the hell she wants and you don't give a flying crap! Who was actually here for her, and you only visited? At least Mattie stayed while I was gone!" Kat yelled. She was red in the face.

"You could be nicer, you know." Canada chipped in. As usual, he wasn't heard, like he was the ghost in the room.

"Yeah, you tell 'em, Canada!" I called over to him, a way of showing that I knew he was there. "And thanks for staying with me, by the way. I really do appreciate it."

He smiled and pointed to the door. "Britain is waiting for you, isn't he? If you're gone, they might stop fighting soon enough, eh?"

I rolled my bags out of the room, their chattering still as loud as ever. I pushed open the door, Britain waiting anxiously to the right of the door. "Blimey, are you alright? They're all yelling their heads off in there." His hands were in his pockets, hair everywhere, and his right foot tapping the floor impatiently. A small frown was playing over his lips. He didn't look happy.

"Yeah, I'm fine, let's just go." I sighed, hurrying out of there. I tightly clutched the paper in my hand, I just had to fill it out. Why couldn't I have just filled it out at the counter?

That would have been easier. Now I have to go back to the counter and ask for a pen and embarrassingly fill it out after already having the paper for a good ten minutes.

We walked out of the hallway and down to the front desk again, where the doctor was waiting for us.

"Oh, hello! I was just signing your release papers. You just need to sign here at this line, and then you're ready to go!" Dr. Yendrea exclaimed.

I wrinkled my nose. He's too cheerful. I don't like it.

"Okay." I reluctantly agreed, still irritated how he could be in such a good mood on a day like this. Honestly, the whole thing with Kat was still on my mind. How could a "friend" do something like that, or say something so hurtful? She's just…

"Mrs. Matthews?" Dr. Yendrea asked.

"Miss." I corrected. "I'm not in any form of a relationship, never mind marriage." Again, the whole issue with Kat stung. Thanks for the reminder. I just stopped thinking about it like 1/3 of a second ago, too.

Britain pressed his mouth into a fine line, obviously just as irritated as I was.

"Oh, sorry. I just assumed that you were engaged in some relations with Mr. Kirkland here. Anyway, you need to sign here." He laughed it off like it was no big deal, but he still seemed flustered over his mistake.

"Yeah, of course." I signed above the dotted line, my usual unreadable scribble. I had developed my signature when I was in 4th grade, and I hadn't really cared about what it looked like, so it always stayed the same, an unreadable and almost illiterate squiggly line that was supposed to say "Cole West M."

Can you tell that I'm so lazy that I don't want to write out my whole name, or just my last? I've always liked my middle name way more than my last. I'm not really sure why. And I even went through a period where I only responded to being called West, since I didn't like Cole.

Honestly, I'm still kind of iffy about Cole, but I respond to it, so…

Don't ask me what got into my head around that time, I'm still questioning what happened. It might be because that was the time I was learning German, and Germany was called West by Prussia.

"Here you go." When I handed back the paper, Dr. Yendrea's hand shot out, accidentally slapping the palm of my hand and pushing the paper into my palm. I hissed, and dropped the paper into his grasp.

"Shit! Goddamn papercut!" It was bright pink and red, and already bleeding. "How does something so small hurt so damn bad?!"

"Blimey! You sure do hurt yourself often, don't you?" Britain rushed forward, clutching my hand, examining it for something, God knows what.

"Here, I can look at it." Dr. Yendrea tried to look at my hand, but Britain stopped him, saying, "It's quite alright, thank you, but it's just a papercut." Of course, "just a papercut" didn't stop him from gently grasping my hand so that I wouldn't hurt it more.

"Just a papercut, right? That's why you're holding my hand like I'm made of fucking porcelain?" I asked. Believe it or not, I'm actually not pissed at Britain, it's actually kind of entertaining to watch his outrageous antics.

He didn't let go, instead turned over my hand and looked for something there, too. His excuse? "Well, I need to be sure you didn't hurt yourself past the papercut. You're incredibly clumsy, you know."

"Suuuuuure." I scoffed.

The good old Doc was just standing there awkwardly, before coughing, bringing our attention back to him.

"Okay, so your papers are good and done being filled out, so you can be released if you want to go. Of course, if you an-…" He trailed off, unsure of the wording of his sentence.

I tilted my head to the side, confused. "Huh? Thanks, I guess."

He walked away, flustered, probably from the ridiculous acts of Britain, who had just dropped my hand. When I turned my head to the cute dude next to me, there was a huge, ridiculous smirk on his face, and he seemed pleased with himself.

"What got into you so suddenly?" I asked bitterly.

"Nothing!"

My reaction to his exclamation was subtle, but enough to be noticed. A small cough later, Britain confessed, "I think he's a prat that's full of himself." It was so quiet that I didn't think that I caught it correctly the first time, so I stupidly responded with "huh?"

Britain flushed. "Nothing! Let's go love, you need your rest! My car is in the parking lot outside."

I blindly grabbed for my bags, luckily grabbing both handles. (One of my bags was strapped to the medium suitcase, so I only had to carry two handles instead of three.)

"Geez! Slow the hell down!" I hollered as he pulled me outside of the building and to his black car.

My eyes went wide when I saw the model. "Bruh! Is that a Rolls Royce?!"

Proudly, he answered, "Of course! You wouldn't think that I would have anything else?"

"Meh, not really. And what's with the whole dragging me out here so quickly? I didn't even have time to put the other paper down, I'm still holding it." I asked as Britain packed my stuff into the back seat of the car.

Not trunk? What's with that? Does this car even have a trunk? After a quick second glance, I confirmed that it did indeed have a trunk, but it looked like a pain in the ass to get to, so I see why Britain didn't shove my stuff in there.

"Here, let me open the door for you, my lady." He was going to walk around to try and open it for me, but I stopped him with a glare.

"I thought that I told you that I'm fine. I don't need anything done for me, but thanks very much." I rolled my eyes, opening the door myself. I understand that it's the common curtesy of this time to do everything for women, but I've never been and never will be interested in that. Plus, I don't need to be coddled!

"It's nice of you to offer, though. Quite the gentlemen." I added as a second thought.

He smiled, swinging into the driver's seat, (which was on the opposite side of the car, the right side, I know, weird, right?!)

"Yo, is it even legal for you to have this car in Canada? They drive on the opposite side of the road compared to what you're used to. The right side, right? I think… Gosh, my head is fuzzy." I asked. My head really was fuzzy. In an effort to clear it up, I rubbed my temples with my pointer fingers in a counterclockwise motion.

"Bloody hell, I don't know. But we're just going to go to the ice cream shop, then the airport, and then we'll get on a plane headed to England."

"Okay, that works." I turned my attention away from him and to the road. It was a new environment, and I wanted to see what it was like. There was light snow coating the road and sidewalk, but it wasn't so cold that I was shivering. What I wouldn't do for a heater, though.

News flash, shorts suck when it's cold out and you're sitting on leather seats. Just to let ya know, ya know?

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, weaving the car through the streets until we made it to the highway.

"Since you're so old, can I ask a few questions?" I asked.

"I'm not that much older than you are. Technically, you're older than I am." Britain sassed.

I rolled my eyes. "Wow. You mean that the Earth is like, millions of years old? I meant that since you're older, you know more than I do. I just wanted some advice, but I guess I could always ask France or America. Heck, maybe even Canada."

"Ask away." He said, begrudgingly.

"How did you become who you are? I mean, do you think that history changes you how it feels like, or do you change yourself? Are you born with your personality, or do you develop it as you grow as a country?"

Britain hummed, focusing on the road, before finally answering.

"I suppose that we change as history does. We have to stay with the times, or at least try to keep up. We don't have the luxury of standing still and never developing."

That's a very philosophical answer. Deep, man.

"Hmm, what about your own relations with others? I mean with the countries? Are you directly influenced by your country's relations with the other, or do you feel as if you don't get along, or you do, because of their personality?" I inquired.

This time his answer was quick and short. "Both."

"Okay, I have one more question, the most important of all. What's your favorite ice cream plavor?"

He snickered, covering his mouth with one hand. "Plavor? That's not a word, I think you meant 'flavour'." Britain continued to laugh, his blond hair bouncing with his chuckles.

I closed my eyes, amused at his amusement. "No, I meant plavor. It's a joke. Sorta like I'm slurring my words?" I thought it was funny in my head… Maybe not? I'm not the best at jokes, just at sarcasm. It's not my best trait.

"Well, that's definitely *stupid* very inventive of you." He coughed to cover up the stupid.

"Well thanks, you're so supportive, I just love that about you. I mean, since I've gotten here, all you've done is be so kind" I wiped a fake tear with my finger "and supportive. You're the best, you know? And I just feel like I can tell you anything, like that I'm actually really sensitive to jokes and how I'm in love with how Ireland rains all the time, and how tea from your place will literally get me to go out with a dude who likes the same tea as I do…" Sarcasm is best when realism is added.

"And please don't get me started on how much I love maple syrup. It's just…" Right at the end, I saw an old car driving past us, and I jumped up mid-sentence, stopping to look at the car.

"OOH! Pretty car! I'll bet that the miles per gallon is a bitch, but sooooo pretty!" I followed it with my eyes until it disappeared. "I wish I had a car like that, since the car I want isn't coming out until '67."

"The car you want was the white one, correct?"

I nodded my head, still looking over the road to see if there were any other cars I would like.

"It's the Airflow Chrysler. I believe it was released in 1933 or 1934. Canada told me about it, apparently it wasn't the most popular because of its round appearance. It does make sense that you'd like it though, considering that in your time cars seem to be very rounded."

Britain kept his eyes on the road, both hands on the steering wheel. It was like I was watching an overprotective mom subtly trying to tell her daughter that the way she drove was not how she was supposed to.

Thinking out loud, I said, "But how much does it cost? 'Cause the average yearly income in Canada around the late 1930's up until they stopped production around 1939 was around $1,801 CAD, so in USD that would be roughly $1350 or so, give or take. That's considering that one Canadian dollar still equals seventy five cents in American currency. Of course, I could be completely off, because of inflation and stocks and all that. Actually, thinking about it, I'm completely wrong, because around this time, didn't the Canadian dollar equal more than the American? So it was the other way around, right?"

Britain almost stopped the car. "Sometimes I wonder if you are as intelligent as you claim you are, and then you spout numbers as if they're the air you breathe. Blimey, you're a tough one to figure out."

"Gee, I'm not sure if I should be laughing or blushing." I laughed as I leaned back into the now warmed leather. The car itself was freezing, but now that the seat was warm, it wasn't unbearable.

"You were out for three and a half days." Britain changed the subject abruptly.

"I was, yeah." I uncomfortably shifted in my seat, staring out the window once more. Is he going to bring up my conversation with Kat and the burns? I looked down quickly, to assure myself that they were still there. They were, and my skin sticking to the leather should have been enough of a reminder, but like Britain said, sometimes you gotta wonder how smart I really am.

"When I was staying with you, you cried." Britain clenched his jaw angrily.

Even more uncomfortable, I tried to laugh it off like it was no big deal. "Were they crocodile tears or gentle, angel tears? Or was I just throwing a fit?"

"You were sobbing. Something about being betrayed. I can come up with quite a few countries that might have made you cry, but judging by the way you're trying to cover up the burn suspiciously shaped like the Soviet Union, I'm going to make an educated hunch and say that it's Russia."

I didn't say anything, instead becoming super interested in the stitching of the fabric on the roof of the car. I kept my hand gently cupped over the burn, though, regardless of the fact that Britain kept looking at it with intense hatred.

"Tell me what actually happened, or I will hunt down that bastard and make him tell me."

"You sound like America." I coolly replied.

"So be it. I need you to tell me." His response was full of determination.

Mine was as equally fueled by anger and stubbornness. And I had to protect Russia, as much as I hated it. He'd get out of communism eventually, and when he does, he'll be all the better for it. It's not my place to tell everyone something they would be able to see clearly if they looked.

So time for another lie. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I had a flashback to when baby Russia was fighting baby Prussia. It was from Prussia's point of view, and I got the hit. Chill out, okay? Russia didn't do anything, it's not his fault. It's his damn dictator's." I spit out more information than I intended, just enough to give him the hint he kept prodding me for.

Britain sighed heavily out his nose. "All right. I'll take your word for it this time, alright?"

I sighed too, relieved. "Thanks. And please, don't ask about it. The battle was far more intense than the anime shows it to be. I really don't want to think back on it."

That was only a half lie.

A few moments later, Britain pulled the car in front of a café, where warmly dressed customers sat in upholstered and velvety looking benches. I felt underdressed just looking from the car in through the window.

Small shivers ran through my back, shaking my teeth the teeniest bit. Interestingly enough, it was only somewhat from the cold. There was more anxiety than cold, though I have no idea why. It started when we pulled into the parking lot.

Britain got out of the car to get out one of my suitcases. "Here, you might want to grab that coat of yours. You look like you're going to freeze to death." He pushed the suitcase enough so that I could reach it from the passenger's seat, which was actually the driver's seat. It's going to take a long time to get used to being in the wrong side of the car.

I reached back, careful to not move since I was practically glued to the seat now. Cold sweat glittered on my skin, acting like fucking superglue, and I was stuck. Well, I could get out, but this is a situation where the phrase 'No pain, no gain' comes in handy.

I rummaged through until I felt the soft, comfortable fur lining of my carefully folded trench coat. It was a different one than the Russia cosplay coat, this one was a deep, blood red. I pulled it carefully out so that I didn't disturb any other clothing items, and tried to put it on without having to unglue myself.

It didn't work.

Carefully prying yourself loose from an expensive suction cup is a near death wish. "FUCK! This hurts! Why did you have to go for leather?"

"It wasn't a choice. Besides, why did you have to wear shorts? You're going to cause a scene in those. Even nighties aren't that short."

"Sexist pigs. Fine. Looks like I'll have to go the band-aid route. Oh man, this is going to hurt." I ripped myself off of the chair, launching myself outside as soon as I opened the car door. The trench coat cascaded elegantly around me as a shrieked out.

"Goddamn! Never again! Ever!" I shook my head, black hair going everywhere. "I hate leather cars, always have, and always will." When I realized that I couldn't see because my hair was in my face, I pushed it back, my fingers gliding through my hair since it was so oily.

"Noted. I'll be sure to let everyone interested knows." Britain walked over to the door of the café, holding it open for me.

When I didn't move, preoccupied with tidying up my hair, Britain called out. "Am I holding open the door for some other random woman who accompanied me in my vehicle, or are you just refusing to enter the significantly warmer environment?"

"No one would believe that a wreck like me could possibly know someone as…" I hesitated, looking for the right words "handsome and dignified as you, Mr. Kirkland." I smartly replied. "Though I guess it works, since I like my men like I like my tea, hot and British."

"Careful there love, you might burn yourself." Britain and I grinned as I made my way through the door, Britain following once I was fully engulfed in the warm, cozy, and inviting café.

People sat in benches, coats disregarded on the backs of their seats. Soft clicks of spoons and mugs made their way through the air, as well as excited chatting. I spotted a small table for two in the center area, and made my way over, Britain watching me as I gazed around the room with childlike wonder.

"Dude, this place is so cool!" I grinned, bouncing in my seat.

"And to think that for a moment I thought that you had learned to speak properly, and not like the American idiot. Oh, the ways life disappoints."

"Can it, Grandpa. Tell me what it's like in England. It's the seventeenth, so Christmas is next week, right? What do the Kirkland brothers do to celebrate this beloved holiday?" I raised my eyebrows as I studied Britain's eyebrows, wondering if I could get the conversation to shift subtly to them.

"Well, usually, Scotland is drunk and smokes so much you can't see an inch in front of you, Northern Ireland gets so drunk he can't stand up, and Wales disappears halfway through the celebration, blaming it on the wonderful food I made. He says it's rubbish, but I think he's a prat." Britain spoke with such haughtiness, I changed my thoughts to how I could pop his ego.

The perfect opportunity presented itself as a waitress made her way over to our table. She wore a simple black dress with a deep green apron, and her hair was curled simplistically to emphasize her face. Her nametag read 'Nancy', which didn't surprise me at all, Nancy was a common name, especially in World War 2.

"Hello, my name is Nancy, what would you like to order?" Her voice was too peppy for my liking.

"Two Earl Greys, love. Thank you." Britain ordered for both of us quite happily, not bothering to ask what I wanted. I mean, yeah, I wanted hot chocolate, and yeah, chocolate is nearly impossible to have in WW2, but come on!

"Oh, well it's coming right up. And I sincerely hope I'm not being too intrusive when I say that you two are one of the cutest couples to come in here since I've been working this joint."

I grinned evilly before replying, "Oh no, we're family. My little brother here just wanted to get together to congratulate himself for finding a llama in this economy." I laughed like it was no big deal as Britain gave me the stink eye. It's unsettling how good he is at it.

Nancy left, blushing and sputtering about how sorry she was.

I brushed it off, it's not her fault that I wanted to get back at Britain. "It's really no big deal. It might even be the highlight of my week."

She laughed as she walked away, still obviously embarrassed.

I turned to Britain, changing the conversation. "Does the Republic of Ireland live with you? Or just Northern Ireland? And I thought you said we were going to an ice cream parlor, not a café."

He looked at me irritably. "Really? Little brother? I obviously look older than you."

"See, not really, because in the car, you were the one talking about how technically I'm older than you are, since I'm millions of years old and all. And besides, if we were together, that age difference though! Sheesh, either way you look at it, whether it's from you're being two hundred and thirty four years old and my being seventeen, or you being two hundred and thirty four and me being ancient. Of course, if we look at it from another point of view, I'm seventeen and you're only twenty three. That's more doable."

His glare strengthened when I added, "And besides, your ego was too big when you were talking about food. From what I've heard, your food sucks, your tea and scones and pastry stuff is good. So yeah, not all bad, but bad."

Britain flushed and took a deep interest in the grain of the dark stained wood table. "Then maybe you'll have to have the wanker frog send you food. Or better yet, why don't you stay with him!"


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note:**

 **Hey guys, I finished another chapter! Like I said I would, I'm uploading as soon as I finish. It's 1:06 AM right now, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm tired. I hope you enjoy and forgive me for not uploading on a schedule. It's super hectic right now, but since it's fall break, I figured that I should probably work on these things.**

 **Anyway, thanks for sticking with the story, and please review. It kinda seems like no one's reading these anymore, and I'm thinking to give up the story if no one's reading it. Gosh, it seems so stupid now that I put in on here. Sorry.**

 **Okay, now to stop my rambling and for you to enjoy your story. Have fun, little chibis!**

"I want to stay with you. If I wanted to leave, I would have, I could even stay with America. You know what though, I'm not going to. And do you really hate France that much? And to think that there are people who think that you two are a cute couple…" I coughed awkwardly. Britain looked surprised, and he even choked on air a little.

"WHAT? I WOULD NEVER GO OUT WITH A-" he sputtered, at a loss for words.

"A French person? Or an American? Or literally any other nationality since you don't get along with yourself?" I was being only half sarcastic. "Would you even be ever interested in someone? Or would you just go around, wasting your time being an aggressive British gentleman that attacks everyone and everything?"

"When is the tea coming?" He ignored me, looking around for the waitress.

"Britain, you can go fuck yourself."

Yes, I'm angry. He's rude, narcissistic, and thinks of himself most of the time. Britain is unapproachable in the sense that he's aggressive, and now that I think about it, it was really immature of me to tell him to go fuck himself. I shouldn't have stooped to his level.

"Sorry. That was rude. I shouldn't have gone to your level." Still had to add some snark in there. I looked around for the waitress, hoping that she'd come and distract Britain and I. "I have a question."

"Well then, ask, since you haven't had any problems blurting any rubbish that comes to mind."

"Fine, I will." I glared at him for a few seconds before asking, "What's your sexual orientation?" He gave me a confused look, so I clarified. "Well, like gay, pansexual, bisexual, asexual, straight, and so on. Are you interested in guys, girls, both, or you don't care?"

"That's what I mean. Rubbish." He looked away, avoiding my gaze.

"Fine, you won't answer. That's fine, it's an uncomfortable question anyway. And in this day and age, you could be dishonorably discharged for anything. Anyway, when we get our tea-"

Speak of the devil. The waitress, Nancy, walked over holding two steaming hot cups of Earl Grey. It smelled amazing, way better than the Bigelow Earl Grey stuff that I bought from Walmart.

"Here's your tea. Sorry for the wait." She smiled nervously, eyeing the two of us.

Taking the cups from her, I smiled kindly, though it was probably more of a grimace. "It's perfectly alright, I understand that working as a waitress and having to take care of so many people at once is hard work. I had a job in a restaurant once, too." And damn it was stressful. Britain gave me a look of surprise.

Nancy flashed us a grateful smile, and rushed off to attend to other customers.

"You worked at a restaurant?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was the job I had before I left. Well, the one I technically still have. Damn, I have to call my mom. I still haven't, she might think that I died or something. Anyway, it was a small diner like a mile from my house. It started out family owned, and then they sold it to a huge corporation, and they ended up become much more cold and such, since once the family sold it, they moved to Idaho. It was called La Cuillère. The Spoon."

"Were they French?" Britain furrowed his brow from under the cup, since he really likes tea. The cup was like ¼ of an inch from his face. Was he attempting to melt into his mug?

"Yeah, the mother. She immigrated from France to the US with her family in '85, and I think the restaurant opened sometime in the '90's. There isn't really an exact date, since they kept closing and reopening."

"Why did they sell?" Britain was paying close attention to what I said, for once.

"Because they were about to go under, and instead of filing bankruptcy, they sold for half of what they should have gotten. It was still enough for them to move, though, so I guess whatever floats your boat." I shrugged, gulping my tea.

"I wouldn't have thought that you would be able to tolerate people enough to work with them."

"Yeah, well, it was either that, or a job at Walmart, and I've heard many a horror story about people pooping in the changing stalls. I'm not cleaning after somebody because they thought it would be funny to defecate. Besides, I was paid eight dollars an hour, so it's not too bad."

Britain's eyes opened wide for a moment, and then it looked like he recovered. "For a moment there I thought you were being paid eight dollars in today's money. Inflation can be quite complex when it comes to the times."

"It's better than the inflation in Germany. If you went into a bar, and got a drink, then ordered again-"

"The price would be different in less than ten minutes. It was a large issue in Europe. It's not a bar, it's a pub." Britain knowingly said.

"Yeah, well I call it a bar." I disagreed, going quiet as I sipped on my tea.

I looked outside, where it started to lightly snow. Britain followed my gaze outside, groaning when he saw the snow. "Bloody hell, it's going to be challenging to get through that."

"Mm."

We drank our tea, surrounded by the low chattering of everyone else. Britain kept getting odd looks since he was in uniform and I was wearing an odd trench coat that I doubt would be coming out for a LONG time.

After a bit, I heard the soft clunk of a tea cup hitting the table, signaling that Britain had finished his tea. I quickly swallowed the last bit and got up as Britain was putting the money on the table.

I followed him outside to the car, stopping when the full force of the cold hit me.

"Oh my gosh, it's so cold!" I shivered as I ran to the car, a small shelter from the cold wind and freezing snow. The trench coat didn't do much in the terms of keeping me warm, it just kept the snow from melting on my skin.

Inside the car, it wasn't much better temperature wise, but it was keeping the snow out, which was wonderful.

"I didn't think Canada was this cold! I'm pretty sure he rivals with Russia." I smiled a bit, but my chattering teeth kind of ruined it.

Britain was obviously cold, too, but while suppressing his shivers, he rolled his eyes and commented sarcastically, "Too bad the airport is almost as far away as your wits, love."

"Shut up."

He laughed, started the car, and started driving.

"I don't care, as long as they are a good match." Britain said out of the blue.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, not completely positive if I heard him correctly. Was he answering my "rubbish" question? I peered at him, trying hard not to smile. Britain wasn't as mean as people think he is, right? He's been pretty cynical, as to be expected, but it's fun to have a back and forth banter with him.

"We're almost to the airport, it's perhaps another five minutes." He completely ignored my question. I'm not that surprised, actually.

"Great. What's your favorite pastime?"

"Fighting with gits that annoy me as their pastime."

"Well, there sure was lots of hesitation there. Took hours for you to answer." I commented sarcastically. He swerved the car on purpose to scare me. Thank God that there weren't any cars near us, none of them (besides us) were stupid enough to drive when it's snowing.

"What the hell? Really, if there was another car here, you would have gotten into an accident. Smart move, there, sheepie." I let out a long, drawn out "bahh", like a sheep. Britain looked like he wanted to swerve the car again.

"Right, well, when we make it to the airport, just take you bags with you, we get right on the plane. I believe that we've kept America waiting long enough."

"Okay, cool. How long does it take to get to your place by plane?"

"Anywhere from eight to ten hours." Britain answered nonchalantly.

I choked on my spit. "What?! I can't stay still for that long!"

Britain grinned and answered, "Well then, you might want to learn how to." I groaned and sat back in my seat as Britain pulled into the airport parking lot, which was adjacent to the landing and takeoff strip.

When he turned off the car and was getting my bags out of the car, my cell phone rang. Instead of America's usual singing, which was the default for most of my contacts, it was 'Guns and Ships', from Hamilton.

I quickly answered the phone in a rush. "Mom? I'm so sorry for not calling, I was going to call when we landed in Britain."

For a few seconds, there was no sound, and then there were relieved sobs. It sounded like both of my parents were crying. At the sound, Britain watched my reactions carefully. I held on to the phone as tight as I could without breaking it. I must have really worried my parents.

Between wet laughs, my mom's voice came through the phone. "You're okay! Kat told us that you were in the hospital, that's why you didn't call right away. How are you?"

Tears gathered in my eyes. The cold air bit at my exposed skin, the small bit of snow still in the air was melting on my face and hands, too. There wasn't much wind, so I'm sure that my parents could hear me fine.

"I'm doing great, I was released a little bit ago. Britain and I are at the airport in Quebec, and it's a nineish hour flight to England."

My dad spoke next, not bothering to cover up the fact that he was freely crying. Well, that's what it sounded like anyway. "What happened? Kat only told us that you were in the hospital, and that you had fallen. She didn't go into too much detail."

I took a deep breathe before starting, and right when I was about to start, I realized that America was waving from a nearby plane, and Britain had already started going to the plane with only his suitcase, a dark green, leaving all of mine by the car.

"Shit! I'm gonna talk to you guys later, okay? America is waiting for us, and the damn git Britain is leaving me behind. I'll call as soon as I can, okay?" I grabbed my bags and rushed after Britain as my parents told me goodbye and to not forget to call.

"Bye, guys. Love you!" I hung up and put my phone back in my pocket. I made it to the plane just as Britain was loading up his suitcase and was getting comfortable in the very uncomfortable looking seats of the plane.

"Took you long enough, and I am most certainly not a git." Britain huffed, slightly disgruntled.

I laughed. "Yes you are." He huffed again and crossed his arms. I placed my suitcases in the holder above our heads and strapped them in. Call me crazy, but I don't really fancy being knocked unconscious by a suitcase. A particularly heavy one, at that.

A moment after I sat down, America stuck his head out of the cockpit and yelled, "Dude, this is gonna be so much fun! AHAHHAHAHHA!"

We took off almost immediately after America yelled, so I have a feeling he had started as he yelled.

It was loud during the first half hour, during which I fidgeted the entire time, but then it quieted down. I had been looking out the window most of the time, or checking my phone for the time. I had wanted to talk to Britain during that time to help calm me down, but it was too loud to be heard. I would have has to yell.

Once it was finally quiet, I spoke up so the Brit could hear me. His eyes were slowly drooping closed, but I was filled with energy since I hadn't moved, so I startled him awake.

"What's your favorite book?"

He jumped a little, which I have to say was slightly satisfying.

"Hm? Oh, I suppose it would be the Hobbit."

"Yeah, that's a good one. Hey, random question, are you King Arthur?"

He was falling back asleep, and he slurred out something like, "Common misconception, though I suppose so."

"So I'm in the presence of the great King Arthur? Nice."

Small snores could be heard from next to me, and when I turned, I saw that Britain was asleep. I smiled a bit, he looked so peaceful while he was asleep. It was really cute. His neck was bent a little bit, though, so I looked for a pillow.

There were awesomely soft pillows under our seats, as well as a blanket. I took out my pillow and placed it under his head so he could be more comfortable.

It was chilly in here, too, so I wrapped Britain as much like a burrito like I possibly could.

"Awe, adorable." I cooed.

I leaned back to relax a bit, but after five minutes, I gave up and walked to the cockpit.

America was humming "The Star Spangled Banner" under his breath when I knocked on the wall to let him know I was there.

"Oh, hey dude!"

I shushed him as I sat in the copilot's seat, getting comfortable. "Britain's asleep."

"Again? He falls asleep whenever he flies. It's kinda funny." America laughed, albeit very quietly. He was looking out the horizon, I guess to see if there was anything going on in the sky.

It felt like the perfect time to talk, with America being so quiet, and Britain sleeping. The sky was beautiful, too.

"Um, can I talk to you about some stuff?"

America looked at me curiously. "Sure, dude. What's up?"

"Well, I've been super stressed out and stuff. I don't want…" I stopped. What if America took it personally that I didn't want to be a personification? He seemed pretty proud of his country, and especially being the face of the country.

"You can say anything and I won't judge you, dude. Especially after being thrown into something like this." He knowingly said.

I sighed. "I don't want to be a personification." It was silent for a few seconds before I continued. "It's too much. It's not like I hate it, or you guys, it's totally not like that. I just don't think that I'll be able to do anything right. I mean, especially in the middle of a war, what if I screw up and do something wrong? It could cause the whole war to be lost and won by the wrong side."

America hummed, showing he was paying attention.

"I can't handle it. I'm already super unstable, emotional wise. I mean, depression, crushing self-image, and the ability to destroy any type of friendship I have with people, it's everything a person doesn't want in a package with a big red crooked bow."

"I think you're pretty cool." America butted in.

"Thanks." I laughed. "It's not even that. I'm just freaking out because so much has changed in the past few days. I don't want to do this. It's something that holds so much responsibility, that I don't have. Fuck, man, I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"Can I tell you something, dude?"

"Sure."

"Neither do I." We both laughed. America continued. "Dude, you know that practically every country is depressed? And none of us know what the heck we're doing, it's just kinda like, 'I hope everything turns out okay with this' and we move on. We don't really get too attached or worried about stuff, either. And really, not people. You know?"

"Yeah. Hey, are you talking about Davie?"

It was quiet, and then almost inaudibly, America said "Yeah".

"Sorry, bro." I tried to console him. I really shouldn't have asked. "My parents called as we were getting out of the car. I spoke ten sentences before hanging up. I'm a horrible person."

"No you're not. At least you picked up the phone."

"Yeah, you're right." I should have called first, though. Almost as soon as I got here, but I didn't really want to. In an attempt to lighten the now heavy atmosphere, I asked, "What was Alexander Hamilton like?"

"A huge pain in the ass." America answered almost immediately.

"How so?"

"Dude, I fought with the guy all the time. And the amount of times my bruh Washington had to break up Hammie and Burr or Tommy got kinda out of control." America talked so casually about it, it's a wonder he didn't start listing some fights.

"Huh, sounds fun. If it weren't still loud in here, I'd play the musical for you to listen to. It really is glorious."

"Sounds like it. What's my place like in your time?"

"Umm, let me see if I can still get it loud enough for you to hear." I will avoid that question like the plague. I am NOT telling America that it was Donald Trump against Hillary Clinton, or anything about the subject. He'll find out later.

Like I said I would, I started playing Hamilton, and lo and behold, it was loud enough to hear. I played the musical in order, so America could get the full story. I tried to keep from singing, but it was near impossible, and by 'Guns and Ships', I had started rapping like a pro. (Nope, not even close. I knew the words, but couldn't keep up. America laughed at me.)

At 'The Reynolds Pamphlet', halfway through, America lost his shit.

"I remember that! Alexander totally fucked up, oh man, it was terrible. Adams lost his mind, he was so damn happy, and people were partying. Oh God, it was a memorable time. I went to a beer drinking competition in New York a week or so after the pamphlet was published, and the subject was entirely on the sex scandal. Ah, man, I miss those days."

"You drink?" The minimum age to drink right now was eighteen, I think, but it surprises me that America drank.

"Yeah, man, I have one of the highest alcohol tolerances out of the Allies." America answered proudly.

"Damn."

"Haha, yep. Whereas Britain there," America pointed to the sleeping Brit with his thumb, "has two beers and he's wasted. Don't let him touch anything stronger than beer, dude. He goes crazy."

"I'll keep that in mind. How much longer have we got?" I'm getting restless again.

"Around six or seven hours."

I groaned. "I can't do this. I have to walk around. Actually, wait. How do you know when your boss is going to die?"

America was shocked by my question. "We usually feel sick."

"Okay, thanks. I'm gonna see how many pushups I can do now." I made my way over to Britain and found a relatively smooth area of the floor, and started doing pushups.

"One, two, three, four, five…"

I made it to twenty when my arms were starting to hurt.

"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…"

Thirty was when I knew I couldn't make it past forty.

"Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, FUCK! One more." I made myself do the fortieth pushup, then gave up and lied on the cool metal floor. The air was chilly, and I had a light coating of sweat over my back from the exertion, which didn't help.

"Wanker." Britain's groggy voice startled me.

I rolled over so I was looking at the ceiling with a grunt of effort. "What did I do this time?"

"Well, for one, showing off. And I didn't need the pillow and blanket, you should have used them." His voice wasn't just groggy, it was also rough since he hadn't used it for a bit.

"Sorry, did I wake you up while I counted? I thought I was pretty quiet, at least I tried to be. Was it my cursing?" I asked. I didn't want to deal with a grumpy Britain.

"No, you didn't. I woke up around your fifteenth pushup."

"I wasn't trying to show off, I'm restless, you know. And I'm glad you saw my awesomeness." I answered.

"Now you sound like the egotistical git Prussia." Britain shot back.

"I'll take that as a compliment." I grinned, finally getting up to sit next to Britain.

He threw the pillow at my lap, but left the blanket. The fact that he left the blanket kind of gave me this warm feeling. It was nice.

"Thanks." I took the pillow and put it on the seat next to me, to my right. "I don't really need it though, if I sleep, I'll just use your shoulder. Though I will steal the blanket if I get cold. And if I'm freezing, then I'll just sleep on you!" At his horrified expression, I quickly backtracked. "I'm just kidding, geez."

"It's not that you're using him as a pillow, it's that you're using him as a pillow!" America yelled.

"That doesn't make any sense!" I yelled back.

"Bloody git! I couldn't care less if it weren't for a certain thing called personal space, which Americans seem to have no concept of!" Britain yelled.

"Are you always this cranky after you wake up?" I asked. "This is a notch up, man."

Instead of answering, Britain let out an exasperated groan, saying, "And now you're speaking like the Yankee! I knew you were his citizen, but I didn't realize how bad it was."

America laughed obnoxiously. "Dude, she's my bestie! How did you think she was going to talk? If she's from somewhere awesome, then she's gonna act like it."

"We're besties? So cool!" I said.

Britain groaned again. "Why did I ever come to your world? This is more trouble than it's worth."

America answered, saying, "Yeah, but dude, Cole and Kat are totally awesome. And Cole, yes, he is always this cranky after he wakes up. He's always been this bad."

"So I'm guessing that he never shares a hotel room with anyone?" I asked.

"Of course not! Why would I?" Britain sputtered.

I winked. "Maybe it's time to change that."

Britain blushed a deep crimson and started yelling, "That's incredibly inappropriate! You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking like that. A pretty young lady like you-"

I cut him off, asking, "Pretty?" sending him into a whole other rant, which I didn't bother to listen to, America and I were laughing too hard. He was just so easy to rile up. It was hard to resist, and trust me, I wanted to resist. I really did, but…

"I was just commenting on how you looked. It's no secret that you're attractive; I've already told you this! That mind of yours is down the gutter! Absolut- blah blah blah blah, bluh blah bleh blah bluh bleh."

"Hey Britain?" I croaked out between laughing fits.

He stopped, flatly asking "What?"

"You know some people think that you and France are a cute couple."

His reaction was priceless. His eyes got really big, and he started sputtering about incoherent things.

I couldn't stop laughing, and my sides really hurt.

Eventually, Britain stopped, and looked at me, bemused. I had stopped laughing, too, as had America. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence due to being stared at through insightful bright green eyes, I meekly whispered something, though I really don't know what.

"You really enjoy riling me up, don't you?" He finally grumbled.

"Yes."

"Yeah." America and I both answered at the same time.

I snuggled into the seat and laid my head on Britain's shoulder, as promised. He lightly glared at me. "Tired, then? So you were serious when you said that you would sleep on my shoulder."

I nodded, only slightly tired. "Yep. I could go for a nap." Honestly, I wasn't super tired, I just wanted to rest my head on Britain's shoulder. It was oddly comfortable, though his uniform was super uncomfortable. Luckily, though, most of his uniform's shoulder was covered by the blanket, so it wasn't too bad.

"You're comfortable. Four out of five stars." I mumbled as I closed my eyes.

"Glad to hear it. Why am I missing a star?"

I looked up at him, then rubbed my cheek on his shoulder like a cat. "Your uniform is scratchy. I don't like it." I closed my eyes again in an effort to fall asleep.

"Next time, schedule an appointment ahead of time so that I can prepare." Britain teased.

"M'kay."

"Aww, Britain likes Cole!" America sang.

"Shut up, git. She's trying to sleep." Britain crabbed. America stayed somewhat quiet, still singing about our love. It wasn't annoying, just funny. Britain was obviously pissed about it, though.

The small amount of turbulence was actually helping me fall asleep, and Britain's smooth breaths helped a lot too.

When I was half asleep, America noticed and asked, "Hey Cole, do you think that Britain is cute?"

Of course, I wasn't in my right mind, since I was half asleep, so I answered honestly. "Mhm, he's super cute."

Since my eyes were closed, I didn't notice Britain's tomato blush and evil glare at America, or America's victorious smirk. The only thing holding Britain back from yelling at America was my even breaths, signaling that I had fallen asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note:**

 **Hey guys! Here's a long awaited for chapter, and I'm sorry for not updating in a bit. Enjoy and please leave a review telling me if you liked it or not! And Zazze, I didn't forget about you, I was wondering when you would pop up again. Hallo, friend!**

 _How did I end up here?_

 _I was stuck in a brightly lit room, lined with couches and a few tables. A picture of a very familiar dictator sat on the wall, but I couldn't quite place who it was. I walked around the room, my body almost as light as air. Some parts of me were burning and throbbing with pain, though I couldn't figure out what._

 _When I walked into the main area of the room, I noticed a small lump on the couch. I would have thought that it was blankets or something, if the lump hadn't been crying and in a green military uniform._

 _The sobs that came from the lump broke my heart. What hurt even more, though, was what it was saying._

 _In German._

" _Es ist meine Schuld! Es kann nicht sein, ich... Ich möchte, dass es aufhört. Ich will nur, dass es aufhört."_

 _I didn't realize I was crying with the lump until a tear fell on my hand._

 _(Translation: It's my fault! It can't be, I... I want it to stop. I just want it to stop.)_

Britain nudged my shoulder, waking me up. I was asleep? I don't remember falling asleep and I don't think I dreamt of anything. When did I drift off? I slowly roused, oddly warm. I don't remember being this warm before. Wait, when did the blanket get on me? At least it wasn't just covering me, it was draped over Britain, too.

"Wake up, git. We're about to land, and I'd rather not have to hold you so you don't fall. This damn airplane doesn't land the best."

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. "Ten m're minutes."

Britain rolled his eyes. "Come on, up."

"No, you're super warm an' comf'table." I wasn't on his shoulder anymore; I was now resting on his chest. Britain had shifted so that he was like one big pillow. "I wanna stay 'ere." I was drifting off again when a sudden jolt scared me awake.

"What the hell was that?!"

Britain laughed. "That was the airplane."

I crossed my arms, or at least tried to while laying down. "Freaking planes, they suck. All I want to do is sleep, but NO, I can't, because some goddamn airplane wants to ruin my fucking night by being some asshole."

"Dude, you're grumpier than Iggy when you wake up!" America laughed.

"Fuck off! I just wanted to sleep." I exclaimed.

America only laughed in response. More rough jolts annoyed me, so I grabbed Britain by the torso and pulled myself up. I was now sitting on his lap and laying my head on his shoulder while hugging him. He tried to move, but I just readjusted myself on his lap so his legs wouldn't fall asleep.

"I would like to be able to move." Britain pleaded.

Stubbornly, I refused. "No, you're staying. I don't like the airplane."

"What does the airplane have to do with grabbing on to me, git?"

I shrugged, and pulled the blanket all the way around us, so it was like a cocoon. I sighed contently and snuggled into Britain again. He didn't push me away, so I took that as a good sign and rested.

The jolts didn't stop, and I ended up on the floor with Britain under me somehow.

I didn't even realize it, but when I did, instead of being pissed, I laughed. We were still wrapped in the blanket, and I was just laying on top of Britain as he gave me his most annoyed look.

"Sorry." I crawled off of him, and let him go back to his seat, pulling the tan blanket as he got up so that I was completely engulfed in it. I sat on the ground like a small ball, perfectly content.

Out of the blue, I spoke, quickly killing the comfortable silence. "You let me sleep on you, as a body pillow. Was I freezing?"

"Yes, I did. Every time I tried to push you off, you grumbled and held onto me tighter, so I gave up. And you were shivering, so I suppose so."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it, buddy." I smiled. I have a feeling that sleep me knows what's up. Cute British Guy + Asleep Me = me using the cute British guy as a pillow because I think that he's cute. Of course, the cold air in the plane helped a lot, since I got to share a blanket and body warmth. And no, I don't feel like blushing or anything like that. I have no shame.

"Of course. A gentleman would do anything for a lady such as yourself." He answered.

I snorted in response, but thankfully, Britain didn't hear me.

America finally landed the plane with one last jolt, sending me into the air. I flew through the air for a few glorious moments before landing on my butt very ungracefully.

Britain started laughing.

"HEY! Don't laugh at me, dude, or I'll speak French for the rest of the day." I grumpily glared at him, still quite a bit tired.

This only made Britain laugh harder. "You- you fell and now you look like an-" He broke off and started laughing again. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and he grabbed his sides as he doubled over.

"Bien, vous l'avez demandé. Et je fais une sieste sur le chemin de votre place, je suis épuisé." I crossed my arms as I got up, leaving the blanket on the floor in a heap.

(Translation: Fine, you asked for it. And I'm taking a nap on the way to your place, I'm exhausted.)

"That's alright, but you're carrying your bags to the car." Britain stated with a hint of humor.

"Connard." I shot back.

(Translation: Asshole.)

Britain wiped at his eye, then sat up and straightened out his uniform. "The git Scotland should be outside waiting in a car. We might want to hurry, since he isn't known to have patience. Bloody twit, it would be beneficial to everybody if he would learn to have some, but no, he's a stuck up prat."

"Très bien!" I cheered. "Comment est Scotland? Pas la terre."

(Translation: Cool! What's Scotland like? Not the land.)

"A prat" was his flat answer. Britain then proceeded to get his bag and put it down, then go to thank America. I followed his example and took my bags down, then talk to America.

"Mec, merci, surtout pour m'écouter et parler et autres choses. Mad appréciation ici, bro."

(Translation: Dude, thanks, especially for listening to me and talking and stuff. Mad appreciation here, bro.)

America smiled and fist bumped me, much to Britain's disapproval. (Don't ask me why, he just looked at us like he was super disappointed. Maybe cause he doesn't like anything American besides McDonalds?)

"Sure. Let me know if you wanna fly Air Americano anytime soon, dude! And Cole?" America inquired.

I was going to walk out, but I turned back. "Hm?"

America smiled and laughed. "I dare you to go three days with the French. Make the limey go crazy, kay?" We fist-bumped again, and I nodded.

"Ça ira."

(Translation: Will do.)

With that, Britain and I left, grabbing our bags and opening the door to the plane. Before I got out, I folded the blanket and placed it back under the seat with its pillow.

Once I got out into the bright day, sure enough, there was a deep red headed guy smoking by a black car. I'm going to guess by the blue uniform and white cross that it's Scotland.

As we neared the car, he called out, "Aye, Britain, you look just as much of a twit as always. And who's this lassie?"

I smiled and waved. Britain scowled. "This is Cole. She's a personification."

He smiled. "Nice to meet you, lass. I'm Scotland." He puffed out some more smoke, and reached out to shake my hand.

"Hey, like Angleterre said, I'm Cole. Nice to meet ya too." I could practically feel the dirty look Britain was giving me, but I couldn't care less. I'm not going to speak in French when I first meet his brothers, but I will use French words and phrases to piss him off. And if Britain wants to speak to me, I will answer back in French.

I love being a polyglot.

"May I ask who you represent?" Scotland asked, another puff of smoke being released as he spoke.

"Oh yeah! I'm the Earth." I flashed him a dazzling smile.

He coughed, though I don't know if it was from the cigar or the revelation of my representation.

"Oh, lass, you are? It would have been nice if my little brother England here would have called to tell us that. I'm sure that Ireland and Wales will be jumpin' out of their boots to meet 'ya." Scotland sounded pissed.

Well, not my fault! Like that saying goes, not my monkey, not my zoo.

He must be really angry to call his brother England, since Britain told me that it only refers to their specific land, sort of like me calling America New York or calling the Netherlands Holland. (Because, NO, Holland is not the name of the Netherlands. It's an area, not the whole goddamn country!)

"I'm sure he just wanted to surprise you guys. And besides, I'm already pissing him off by only speaking French when I answer him. In case you didn't catch on, no, I don't usually call Britain Angleterre." I jumped up a little to warm up. It was still freezing here.

"We should probably get in the car, its cold out." Britain glared at Scotland, who merely grinned back. "Here love, sit in the back and I'll sit with you, since this car has more room in the front than in the back." Britain ushered me into the even colder leather seated car.

Goosebumps covered my skin and made me hiss in pain when they popped up in the areas that the burns were on.

"Those are still hurting you?"

"Oui." I answered Britain.

"You know, if you had listened to me in the first place, you wouldn't have to deal with those." He sassed.

"Tu sais, je pense que je le ferais toujours. Arrêtez d'être autant d'un mouton."

(Translation, French: You know, I think I still would. Stop being so much of a sheep.)

"Hmph."

Scotland placed the bags in the front seat, where they all miraculously fit. With how big they were, it should have been impossible, but no. They fit.

Huh.

Scotland silently started the car. Britain stared out the window.

"Oh, I have to call my mom. Hold on a sec." I took out my phone and tapped one for speed dial. The phone didn't even ring once before my dad answered.

"Hello?" His gruff voice answered.

"Yo, Vater, how are ya?" I cheerfully exclaimed.

"Cole? So it's been ten hours, huh?"

I nodded, forgetting that they couldn't see me. When I realized my mistake, I quickly said "yeah, it's been ten hours all right. I fell asleep in the airplane, though don't ask me how, since it was so loud. And America of all people was the pilot. You know, you guys should start watching Hetalia so you know who I'm talking about."

"We have. I think we're halfway through Axis Powers or whatever it's called. Oh, here's your mom."

There was some rustling, and then my mom came on the phone. She sounded breathless. I'm going to make an educated guess and say that she had run down the stairs.

"Cole, honey, how are you? How was the flight?"

I laughed, "It was fine. I was just telling Dad that I fell asleep for more than half of the flight, so it wasn't too bad. And I'm doing fine, I'm in the car with Scotland and Britain right now."

My dad came back on the phone and told me to give the phone to Britain. I sighed and mouthed "I'm sorry" to him before giving him the phone. Britain's response was to look at me curiously before taking the phone and putting it to his ear.

I could faintly hear my father muttering something like "keep my kid safe or I'll find my way over there" and "if she's hurt then I'm going to-"

It cut off when I yanked the phone from Britain's horror stricken face and put it up to my ear. "Okay, first of all, Dad, you're not allowed to go scaring the person that's giving me a home and a job, okay? And especially if I have to work with the poor dude for the rest of my existence, thank you very much."

He sighed. "Alright, fine, but my point still stands. If he does anything to my little girl I will hunt him down." I rolled my eyes. "That's illegal. Can Mom come back on the phone, please?"

"Of course."

There was some shuffling and sniffs, and then my mom's voice came back through the speaker. "Hey, honey. Um, how are all the countries- I mean, people, being? Are they nice?" She sounded so awkward. My dad was taking this infinitely better than my mom was.

"Yeah, they're-" I hesitated. Britain looked at me imploringly, urging me to go on, since I hadn't given a satisfactory answer to my new USSR injury. I looked away guiltily and kept talking like nothing had happened.

"They're great. America is super cool, and you guys met Canada, so you know how chill he is. Um, France is a perverted piece of- okay, nope, gonna stop talking 'bout him. Um, China is pretty cool, though he likes to complain about people being immature since he's really old."

"Of course he does. I complain, and I'm not near as old as he is." Britain grumbled.

"Ye', well, England is an old man, he doesn't know how to have fun." Scotland spoke up.

I laughed and resumed speaking. "And I'm really starting to warm up to Scotland."

"That's nice, honey. Have you made any new friends? Perhaps, certain love interests or crushes?" My mom sounded like she was talking to a middle schooler. I didn't comment, she was already stressed enough and a remark like that on my part might have too much of a negative effect.

"Um, yeah, I guess." Smooth of me to not specify which question I was answering, huh?

"Alright, that sounds nice. I'll let you go, it's three in the morning. I do have work tomorrow! Call us in the morning, okay, Cole?" My mom signaled the end of the conversation. My name was stifled with a yawn.

My dad called over through the phone, "Goodnight, honey."

I laughed and answered, "Goodnight, guys. I'll call later. Bye." With that, we hung up, and I placed my phone in my lap, defeated. At least they talked for as long as they had, right? And I must have woken them up.

"That's it, lass? You hung up already?" Scotland looked in the driver's mirror to the backseat, eyeing my reaction and emotions carefully. Britain looked pretty confused, too, but he didn't mumble a single thing.

"Yeah, I woke them up. They were pretty tired. Hey, out of curiosity, what time is it?"

Britain answered. "Roughly around ten."

Oh, so was time here the same as at home. Britain is seven hours ahead, so if it's ten here, it's going to be three there.

"Interesting." I hadn't realized I spoke out loud until a heavy Scottish accent asked, "What is?"

"It's the same time here as it is in my place. Well, seven hour time difference aside." I played with a rouge string off of my shirt.

"I didn't think if that would be a possibility. Of course it would be, it just hadn't crossed my mind. Perhaps the spell aligned itself with your time zone and timed our two worlds the same."

He forgot that the dates weren't the same. I'd still celebrate my birthday on the same day, and I'm not going to point out the different dates, since it's not that big of a deal.

"Oui."

He sighed, frustrated with my insistence to speak French when answering him.

"Lassie, I still haven't heard what the fuck you're doing here. England, brother, please fill me the-"

Britain launched into a full on explanation, including the whole hospital incident, but curiously, he skipped over the plane ride. He seemed to not want to talk about it in front of his brother. It took a good while to explain the whole thing, and when Britain forgot something, I would jump in and exclaim something. Near the end of the conversation, Scotland and I were getting along just fine.

However, sleep was starting to creep up on me again. "Ugh. I'm tired." Neither of the guys said anything, so I closed my eyes, and rested my head on the door. The car's rough jolts kept shocking me back awake, but eventually I quietly slipped into sleep.

Until a voice woke me up, right as I was starting to get into deep sleep.

"You don't have to sleep on the door. You can sleep on my shoulder again." Britain whispered.

Tiredly, I opened my eyes and blearily looked to his shoulder. I moved my body into a more comfortable position, and fell back asleep, for the second time that day, using Britain as a body pillow. Unknown to Britain and Scotland, I was awake for a little bit more, breathing in the calming scent of Britain's uniform.

"Y' never let an'one sleep on ya'. You really like her, don't ya'?" Scotland asked.

Britain shuffled uncomfortably and moved me to his lap. He rested one of his hands on my side, since he didn't really have anywhere else to place it. He sighed deeply before answering. Scotland tried to keep the car more steady, now that he thought I was asleep.

Britain irately shot back, "And how's your driving going, wanker? I don't see you too concerned with anything that's been happening lately."

"'M not the one letting the lass sleep on my lap, England."

I was starting to get cold, so I wrapped my arms around myself and snuggled into Britain. I could practically feel him blushing. I could sense the smirk Scotland was sending, too.

"Bloody git." Britain said loudly. To keep up the illusion that I was asleep, I shifted like I had almost been woken up. They silenced almost immediately, neither of them speaking for a few minutes.

Britain broke the silence. "Did you see the burns on her arms and legs? She has a new one, too. Russia and his empire." Empire was said with such bitterness that I flinched. I felt his gaze on me as he continued speaking. "The prat lied. He left right after, too. The worst part is, she's lying to cover for him. I trust her, but I'm not sure how much. If she's willing to lie about something so important, then what would she do when she's thrown in the middle of battle?"

Scotland answered back quietly, "What are 'ya gonna do?"

"I don't know." Britain ran his hand through his hair.

"Lad, if you trus' her enough to sleep on 'ur lap, then you can throw her in the middle of battle. And from what I understand, she's a smart one, too. H'w many languages does she speak, again?"

"11, though sometimes I wonder if she speaks more. And I haven't quite figured out yet what she should do as her official job title." Britain shuffled his legs a bit, which kind of moved me alittle bit off of his warm self, so I shuffled right back on.

They stopped after that, which must have been a good half hour of talking, with their uncomfortable breaks and all, and I suppose by the car pulling onto a street and the engine quieting, we had arrived.

Britain gently shook my shoulder. "Come on, love, let's get inside. It's cold outside. Wake up." I was tired, so I didn't have to act that I didn't want to get up.

"Umgh. Do I have to?" I squeezed my eyes closed, the brightness from the sunlight bouncing on the light covering of snow over the terrain. It was so bright.

Britain and Scotland chuckled as they were getting out of the car. Scotland humorously said, "I think the same thing, lass. It's not fair we're in England."

Britain immediately went defensive. "Excuse me, bloody git! I'll have you know that England is perfectly beautiful and just because you aren't in Scotland right now does not give you a chance to bash my land! How would you like it if I insulted you all the time?! Twat." I grinned when Scotland muttered under his breathe, "You complain all the time when we're at my house."

I got up and got my bags from the front seat, since my bags were the only ones left in the front. Britain was already heading to the front door of the house, a three story blocky building. Its outside was of red brick, and I counted two chimneys from where I stood.

"You have a big house. I'm guessing you share it with all of your brothers?" I asked, yawning.

Scotland nodded. "Ye', there's always argu'en, too." He locked up the car and started walking to the front door, waiting for me as he opened the door.

Britain was walking back to the front door, from what looked like the living room. There were two others sitting on the couch, looking bored. They were probably Wales and Ireland. Neither of them seemed to notice me.

I hesitantly stepped into the house, my stacked suitcases following behind me. Once I was in the house enough that Scotland could get in, too, he closed and locked the door.

Britain came up to me, and taking away my bags with a dirty look to Scotland, he motioned to the corridor to my right. It was large and easily had room for four people, shoulder to shoulder, to walk down it.

"Come on, love. Let me show you to your room, and then you can say hello to my brothers, which will launch into another long explanation. " He sighed as he pushed open a cream colored door. It was a dark grey from age and dirt around the edges. The handle to the door was a round wood knob, colored a dark cherry red brown.

The room itself was not large. It was perhaps 10' by 12'. The walls were a dark forest green with gold imprint along the trim at the ceiling and the floor.

The furniture was simple, a double bed with a simple wooden bed frame, a dark brown nightstand, and a large black dresser pushed under the window. A small 5' by 5' rug, a faded white on the dark wood flooring, brought warmth to the otherwise cold floor in the room.

Britain analyzed my expression as I took in the room. As soon as I opened my mouth, he quickly spoke over me, not giving me a chance to speak. "If you don't like it, then you can always move in with America or Canada."

I wrinkled my brows. "What are you talking about? I love this room."

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was, "Wonderful." He looked like he wanted to say much more, but he snapped it shut and took my suitcases to lie against the bed.

He walked out of the room, leaning on the door frame. I took one more look around the room and then walked out, intent on getting out and meeting Wales and Ireland. Britain moved out of the way, allowing me to pass and lead the way, and he followed.

As we walked to the living room, I heard laughter and hushed voices. Various British accents floated through the air, practically heaven for a born and raised American.

As we emerged from the hallway and made our way into the warm living room, I saw the three British countries curled under blankets, no uniforms to be found except on Britain and Scotland. One of them (I'm going to guess Wales) had a red dragon on his shoulder, which I don't think Scotland or Ireland saw.

"Hello." I cheerily joined in, bringing attention to Britain and I.

Wales jumped up with an ecstatic grin, looking me over. "Hello, Scotland was just telling us about you. I'm Wales, and this to mu' left," he gestured to a light orangey haired brother, "is Ireland." Ireland smiled, too, and greeted me. "Hallo, how 'r you?" The mispronounced words were not because of his accent, he was too lazy to fully and correctly speak. I can sympathize.

Relief washed over me. I wasn't exactly tense to meet them, but I had no idea what they would be like, since they weren't in the anime or anything. I suppose that's bad, but I liked them already.

"I'm great. I don't know if Scotland told you, but my name is Cole. Nice to meet you guys." Just because they were nice didn't mean that it wasn't going to be awkward.

Ireland noticed my discomfort and pointed to a large empty spot on the couch. "England an' you can sit h're." I gratefully accepted and bounced to the warm looking couch, Britain joining us. He sat to my left. There was a dark blue blanket over the armrest of the couch, and I pointed to it, asking Britain if he could possibly give it to me.

"Yo, Britain, can I use the blanket right next to you, pretty please?" I smiled. I hadn't realized how American I sounded until Scotland snorted with withheld laughter.

"See? The lassie's as American as they come." Wales and Ireland snickered, too, and I noticed Britain couldn't withhold a grin as he handed me the soft knitted blanket. I spread it over myself, and over Britain, too, since it was so big.

"Who knitted this? It's really nice." there were a few pulled strings, and the slightly more faded color on the top sections showed that it had been too tedious a task, so it had been abandoned for quite a bit. The blanket was knitted with a blend of cotton and wool, so I'm going to guess Ireland.

Sure enough, Ireland smiled. "I did. I' was a ha'd thing to complete, bu' I did it. Glad ya like it."

"So where were you born?" Wales questioned.

"Denver, Colorado. I was raised in Colorado, too." I looked around the room, to the antique TV they had in a corner, and the radio on the table next to it. There were maps all over the walls, too, some with red pins in them.

"An' how ol' are ya'?" This time, it was Ireland who spoke. Behind him, leaning on the back of the couch, Scotland smoked a thick cigar. The sweet smell swept through the room and left a sick feeling in my stomach.

"17. My birthday is April 22."

Scotland asked, "What year?"

At this question, I stumbled, hesitating. I knew the year, but the question was if I should tell them. Well, they did ask. "1998."

Wales whistled. Ireland was taken aback, while Scotland smirked and Britain squirmed. The range of their reactions was astonishing.

Ireland was the first to protest, while Wales just looked on, not nearly as shocked as I would have thought he should have been. I suppose that the dragon on his shoulder had something to do with it, since only Britain seemed to know it was there. He eyed it carefully, like it might explode at any time.

"Bu' that's imp'ssible, we're only in 1941. Ya' can't have be'n born in 1998."

In response, I winked. "I'm just impossible, then. Though if we're really going down the route of what's impossible, you guys would be."

"Well then, how come you know about us? And who do you represent?" Wales asked.

I thought about that for a few seconds before answering. "Britain and Canada showed up to my house, and Britain told me that he thought I represented someone important, that is, the Earth, and so my friend and I came here. He told me about personifications and things like that, and when we got to the Allied meeting room, I had made it rain, thus sealing my fate."

"I don't believe most of that, but for the benefit of the doubt, we'll say you're telling the truth. Who's your friend that you came with?" Wales continued his inquiry.

"Her name is Kat. She's staying with Canada."

Four "Who?"s filled the air, and in exasperation, I threw my hands up in the air.

"Canada. Maple syrup, hockey, winter. No?"

They all shook their heads. Britain spoke for the first time, saying, "I think that I have heard the name, but I don't know who that is."

"Whatever." I shook my head.

"Agus bha iad a 'smaoineachadh gun robh mi gòrach nuair a bha mi ag innse dhaibh mu Neasaidh." Scotland laughed under his breath.

(Translation: Scots Gaelic: And they were thinkin' that I was crazy when I told 'em 'bout Nessie.)

For the first time, in a long time, I heard a language that I didn't 100% understand. I don't know why, but it made me really upset. I curled into a little ball and tried to push it out of my mind, but I felt like yelling and crying at the same time.

"Anyway, now it's time to ask you guys some questions. Ireland, wha-" I was interrupted by the whistling of the teapot, in the kitchen, right across from the open living room.

Britain jumped up to get the boiling water, and the other's attention went to the Englishman that was currently in charge of preparing and making tea.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note:**

 **Here's chapter 18! I know, my notes are so darn repetitive. I'm sorry! And thanks for the awesomeness that is you guys, I hope you have Good Day, (Guten Tag!) Though that's more of a greeting…**

 **Okay, ignore the top portion. And I'm NOT sorry to say, I've got another great**

"Cole, what type of tea would you like?" Britain called over his shoulder from the kitchen. There were two pots of hot water on the stove, not just one like I had originally thought. One probably didn't whistle, that's why there was only one pot making noise.

"I don't want any, thanks though." If we were in war, I don't think that they would have different types of tea, or very much of it. I'll take water, but nothing more than that. Rations on Britain were hard after the Blitz, and chances are, we're probably surrounded by damaged buildings.

"Hey, where exactly is this place?" Maybe I could tell them when to evacuate.

Ireland answered from across the couch. "Manchester."

My heart almost stopped, and my grip around my knees tightened. "Which area of Manchester?"

Almost in answer, Britain walked over, two cups of tea in his hands. He handed a cup to me, saying, "Middleton."

The Blitz was for the most part over in Britain, but I know that Manchester was hit badly by the Germans. Middleton had two casualties, which makes it a safer part of Britain. I wonder how many buildings were damaged?

I moved so that I could fully hold the cup. "Hey, I said I didn't want any. Don't you only get 2 oz. of tea a week or something?"

"What does that have to do with anything? There are five people in this house now, which is roughly 10 ounces of tea a week. Scotland and Ireland prefer alcohol over tea, they're both usually found at the pub down the road."

I snorted. "Why doesn't that surprise me? And lemme guess, you like the bar, too?"

Britain rose to my bait. "There's nothing wrong with a drink now and again, wanker."

"As long as I don't have to get you at three in the morning, everything's good." I took a sip of the tea, and to my chagrin, it wasn't sweetened. I was half expecting it to be, since I had forgotten that sugar was practically impossible to get. I didn't say anything, however, and continued drinking the plain tea. It was pretty flavorless, but with the cold threatening to make me shiver, I drank it without a complaint.

The warm blue blanket was pooled around my legs, but not covering my lap, so I pulled it up. My legs were under me, more to my side now, my shoes still on. I had forgotten about them.

"Hey, can you hold my tea? I forgot to take my shoes off, sorry." I straightened my feet, so that they were resting on the floor again, and handed my tea to Britain.

"Why are you- Can't you just go put it down on the kitchen table? Am I your maid or something?!" Britain exclaimed.

"No, just a self-proclaimed British gentleman. Are you going to live up to your title or what?" I cheekily replied.

This brought the attention of his brothers, most of which had been watching us anyway. Ireland was already sitting on the couch, no cup of tea or alcohol in his hands. Wales was in the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea, and Scotland was drinking something from a glass bottle, which looked suspiciously like whiskey.

I undid the laces of my Converse, and got up to put them next to the front door. The blanket fell completely off of me onto the floor, but my hands were each occupied with one shoe, so I left it there. "Sorry, I'll pick it up as soon as I get back."

Britain's answer was a long and angry stare.

The front door had a 3" wide by 2' tall glass window in it, which was taped up. Now that I looked, all of the windows had tape on them, each with different designs, most likely done by each of the brothers. I have a feeling it had to do with the fact that when the bombs went off and the glass shattered, it might have less damage on anyone near the glass.

My shoes went neatly together next to everyone else's on the small black shoe rack they had next to the door. I made sure they were neat before walking back to the sofa.

Wales whistled. "I didn't notice when you first came in how short your pants are. Indecent for a young lady your age."

"And exactly how perverted and indecent is it for you to be looking at my legs? Can a lady have no dignity in a house full of men that act like teenage boys? I thought I was finally done with school." I glared. For a moment, I had forgotten how oppressed women were in the 1940's.

Britain laughed, almost choking on his tea.

"Lassie's got a mouth." Scotland snickered.

Ireland's orange hair flashed out of nowhere as he shouted at the light brown haired Welshman, "She to'l ya', br'ther! An' besid's, don't you ge' enough w'men on the field?"

"Wales has been on the battlefield? That comes as a surprise to me." Britain commented.

I smiled. "Aww, you guys are so sweet to each other. Brotherly love in action!"

"Yes, well, I have been on the battlefield, for your information. I thought we were all home on leave, how 'bout we not fight on our first few days back?" Wales asked.

My smiled dropped. "Wait, how long are you guys home for? Before you have to go back?" I sat back next to Britain, and pulled up the blanket. Britain answered my question as he handed my tea back.

"We received three weeks on leave. Generally soldiers wouldn't be allowed on leave, but since we're the country itself, we can't constantly be fighting, we need to return home every once in a blue moon. I don't suppose that would be a problem for you, considering everything is your home. Sometime in the following week, we'll have to sort out what you do, considering that it's not the safest for you to be here all day and you're strongly independent and necessary to the winning side of the war."

"Oh, okay. Sorry." I stared holes at the blanket. Had I potentially ruined their not truly vacation?

"Wot for?" Ireland asked.

"Lass, I think you're g'nna make this the m'st inter'sting break we've h'd in a long time." Scotland spoke.

"Well, I guess I'm just sorry that I might be ruining your time home. Having someone you're unfamiliar with can be a bit… weird. And I have a tendency to be pushy, and loudmouthed-"

"You're telling us." Britain interjected.

"Hmph. You're one to talk, Iggy. I shouldn't have stopped speaking French." I shot back, gulping my tea triumphantly as he glared at me.

"I'm glad you did. French sounds like you're trying to speak with your tongue swollen and half choking you."

Wales and Ireland nodded their agreement, while Scotland shook his head.

"Don't list'n to 'em. French is a good lanu'ge."

"Vraiment? Ressemble-t-il vraiment à quelqu'un avec une langue enflée? Le français n'est-il pas censé être la langue de l'amour et du romantisme? Je suppose que la beauté est vraiment dans l'œil du spectateur."

(Translation, French: Really? Does it really sound like someone with a swollen tongue? Isn't French supposed to be the language of love and romance? I suppose beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.)

Britain rolled his eyes. "Only to a particular species of frogs."

"Hey, don't be jealous because you speak a rough Germanic language." I crossed my arms as best as I could with one hand holding a warm mug.

Ireland seemed shocked. "Ya' can speak tha' quickly an' well?"

I nodded. This was old news for me. "Oui."

"How many languages do you speak, then?" Wales seemed excited.

Britain grumbled "She's very talented" at the same time that I said, "A few." We both looked at each other before looking somewhere else, in my case, Scotland, who seemed content drinking his whiskey.

"How many is a few?" Ireland spoke. When I shrugged in answer, he looked to Scotland. "Hey, ya' haven't been speakin' in a bit, Scotty. Do ya' know the ans'er?"

"Ya', I do. Not tellin', though." He took another swig of the bottle he was holding.

"Ugh. Why ain't ya' talkin'?" Ireland crossed his arms. Scotland laughed, and Ireland turned his attention somewhere else, to Britain and I. Wales sat in the background, amused by the atmosphere and random comments.

"How smart ar' ya' then?"

I smiled. "Just as smart as you expect me to be." Britain snorted. I finished off my tea, I had maybe four gulps left. It left an odd dry taste in my mouth, which isn't what you would expect from liquid.

In frustration, Ireland walked off to what I assume to be his room, since he went down the hallway. Scotland waved him off with the bottle. Wales reached for the dragon, letting it rest on his arm as he pet the scaly animal.

"Britain, I'm not the only one that sees the winged lizard, right?" I whispered. He smiled and nodded.

"Her name is Feremal, she's been with Wales since he was a tiny child. Don't walk over to her without asking Wales, she's got a nasty bite."

"Oh, okay." I shook my head, this was unbelievable. Now I was half expecting Flying Mint Bunny to appear out of nowhere and start chattering. Now that I think about it, I've been with Britain since I've gotten here, and I haven't seen the bunny. I wonder when he'll pop up.

"Scotland, get me some water, will you?" Wales called.

"Hmph. Why should I get yur' water?" Scotland asked.

"Because you're right there in the kitchen, dumb-"

"'M not yur' butler." Scotland cut him off.

They went at it just like Britain and I had. "Is this a normal occurrence in this place?"

Britain nodded, before getting up. His cup of tea had long been empty, and I supposed that he was getting up to put it in the sink, but then he started arguing with Scotland and Wales.

"England, g't yur' little Welsh kin'dom his water, will ya'?" Scotland attacked Britain.

"I am not your personal kitchen minion, nor your little brother that you get to push around! Get your own damn water, twat! And Wales is not a kingdom, he is a state and country in the United Kingdom just like the rest of us in this house, excluding Cole!"

"You mean to say that you're most important?" Wales said.

"No, you wanker! But at least I'm civilized-"

They were really going at it, and from Britain's expression, I don't think that they're going to stop anytime soon. I quietly got up and laid the blanket down on the armchair and walked over to the kitchen, where Scotland was leaning against a wall, bottle firmly to his lips.

I placed my cup in the sink, which was stacked with a good load of dishes. I don't think any of them do chores or clean, unless they really have to. Though, to be fair, they had just been home for a very small time, and I doubt that they want to clean as soon as they get home.

If they don't clean up, I hope they don't expect me to. I'm just going to be doing my part, and not theirs because I'm a woman. It doesn't work that way, or at least I won't allow it to anymore.

"Yur' a bleedin' hazard, England! Ya' can't cook for yur' life!" Scotland sounded slightly tipsy now, his words coming out even stronger and more slurred. I should probably get to my room now.

Slowly, as to not attract attention, I headed down the cream painted walls, with their randomly placed family photos. None of them seemed to be taken happily, save for one, where Britain had gotten himself piss drunk and was waving his shirt around standing on a table. Scotland was sitting at the bar, toasting the camera. Ireland was cheering Britain on; his tie was loose and barely on. Wales was nowhere to be seen, so it's probably him taking the photo.

As stupid as the picture was, it made me laugh when I imagined the scene in which it had taken place. Everyone else in the bar was probably freaked out by the brothers. I had only given the picture a two second glance while heading down the hallway, trying to remember the room I had been given.

My door wasn't too far off, it was the third on the right wall of the hallway. I slowly opened it to find everything the same. What was I expecting? A bright pink fluffy cloud raining kittens and terror?

No. I don't really know, honestly.

I closed the door behind me, and headed to my bed, where my suitcases were. I undid the latch on the top one and opened it before laying it on my bed. The bedsheets were a light blue with a red and white plaid pattern. It seemed very appropriate for the house.

I dumped the top suitcase on my bed, which was entirely makeup and hygiene products. The makeup I put into a pile, so I could figure out what to do with it later, but the hairbrushes, shampoo, and other stuff, I placed on the dresser so I could take it to the bathroom.

There was only one door in my room, to enter and exit, so I don't think that I had my own adjacent bathroom, which I have to say, I would be very surprised to see. After I had set everything from the first suitcase in its place on the bed or the dresser, I moved on to my clothing, books, and shoes. (I had very large suitcases.)

The books went on top of the nightstand, and the clothes were sorted by piles on the bed. As I worked, I heard the faint(er) voices of the three brothers still arguing. Ireland had disappeared, though I'm sure that he would be plenty happy to argue, since he seems to be fairly argumentative, just like everyone else.

I really hope they stop soon, I'd like to get to know them a bit better than by hearing them argue. Though I can't really blame them, I don't doubt that I will get into some heated arguments as well.

After I had sorted my shirts into a shirt pile, my jeans into another, and my books and learning materials on the floor next to my shoes, I moved on to my third and final suitcase, which was impossibly large. I'm pretty sure it's the biggest they manufacture.

There wasn't any more room on the bed for me to open the suitcase on, so I placed it on the ground, face up, and unzipped it. Just like the others, I emptied it, sorting everything in its appropriate place. It took a good twenty minutes to empty everything, and for most of the time, the others were not being too quiet.

Once everything was sorted, I placed the suitcases inside of one another and slid them under the bed, so I could be free to put everything away. I opened the top drawer of the dresser just as someone knocked on the bedroom door.

"You can come in, it's not like I'm naked or anything. Just unpacking." I called.

Wales opened the door, followed by the red dragon, who seemed perfectly content to be flying through the air. "I heard from England that you can see Feremal. She doesn't seem to mind you, so I figured it would be beneficial for you to meet her officially."

"Oh, yeah, thanks. How long have you two been friends, if that's the word, for? Britain told me it's been since you were a small kid." Feremal flew on top of my pile of shirts, and curled up comfortably on the large black cotton t-shirt I had thrown on the pile.

Wales nodded. "Yea', she's been with me for what seems like forever. She's a loyal dragon, she's on my flag for a reason. Alright, you can close the door if you two start up a conversation, but it's not my occupation to be involved in this. Feremal will leave when she wants to."

With that, Wales left, closing the door behind him. I was shocked at how short and brief he had been. He seemed to be one of those people who liked to have long late night conversations.

A breathy voice let out a small noise that I think was supposed to be a greeting. Feremal had made herself a loose nest out of my shirt, and her wings were lazily stretched out over my pile of clothes.

Uncertainly, I made a small squeak of a hello.

Feremal laughed. Granted, it was more of a fire breathing cough without the fire, but it was laughter none the same.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I don't bite. Well, I do, but I wouldn't dare bite you." She stood up, and placed her front two legs under her as she sat down again. Her red scales glinted in the bright light reflected by the snow that was coming from my window.

"Oh, okay. Well, it's not that I was necessarily afraid of you, but Britain told me that you'll bite if I get close."

She rolled her black eyes. "He's just upset because I tried to eat that dumb blue rabbit of his." Feremal had the same Welsh accent as Wales, but a bit deeper. She couldn't have been longer than 7 inches, not including her tail, which was another good 7 inches. "It's not my fault he looks so good."

"Wait, you tried to eat Flying Mint Bunny?" I want to hear the story behind this.

"Of course I did. He smells like chocolate."

"Was he irritating you at all? What else would you eat?" I asked.

She lifted her head to look at me curiously. "You're very talkative. When Wales told me you are Mother Earth, I didn't think that you would be so young and energetic. To be honest, I would have thought that you would be more, how should I say? Harsh and old?"

I cringed. "How many other people think that I'm an old geezer with bushy eyebrows and wrinkles? And yeah, I care, aren't I supposed to?" I placed a stack of jeans in the top drawer, trying to fit them in as best as possible as I talked with the red lizard.

"There was never an idea of what you would be like. We took it from the environment and the world around us."

That is a good point. "Yeah, I suppose. So what does a dragon such as yourself do for fun in a house like this?"

She let out a hot breathe of air. "Hunt mice and rats, or fly around England's head like a bat."

"So do you get along with Britain? And why does everyone call him England?" I haven't heard anyone in this house call him by his full name and country. Does it have to do with the fact that when they are together, he only represents England?

"They don't like the fact that he not only represents England, but them. Would you be happy if someone else represented themselves and you? I get along with him fine, except for the rabbit incident." Feremal asked.

"Yeah, I guess I can see that. But think, if I represent land that is already represented, then there's surely someone who also represents me."

She snorted. "You're much wiser than I thought when I first saw those pants of yours. That's a good thing. I have to say, however, that you have a streak of ignorance in you."

I reached over to get some of my other clothes, like undershirts and scarves, to place them with my jeans. "Gee, thanks. What am I supposed to do with that? And I feel so supported, thank you very much."

Feremal climbed off of my shirts and walked down my bed to one of my pillows. "You're supposed to build on it." She laid her head on my pillow to watch me work as I folded the t-shirt that she had made into a nest. I started putting my t-shirts and regular shirts in the second and third drawer, saving the fourth for jackets and things like that.

"Nice little bed you made yourself. If I didn't have to put it away I wouldn't've minded you using it." I noted in appreciation.

"Thank you. Yes, I try to make myself comfortable when it is in my power. Your shirts are very soft. Tell me, what is it like for you to come to a world where you know close to nothing?"

"Are you going to talk to Wales about it? It's not really something that I want the whole world to know." After she shook her head, I continued. "Alright. Well, it's not like I know nothing, per say. I'm actually pretty familiar with this world, but not from a hands on perspective. You know how there's television programs? I watched most things that happened here in my world, in a… cartoon, I guess, but not really, it's called an anime. It was called Hetalia." I stopped there.

Feremal closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again, she spoke in a low voice. "So what is it like to see something that is not quite foreign to you, now your reality?"

"Weird. It's like I was watching a recording, and then suddenly I'm in it. Well, that's exactly what happened, except the recording was drawn. And some people weren't in it. I had no idea what Scotland, Ireland, and Wales would look like since they're not in the anime, manga, or web comic. And Hetalia wasn't just about people, it was about history and how nations reacted to the world around them."

As I trailed off, I rubbed my neck, forgetting I was holding a bra in my hand. It fell to the ground pretty clumsily. "Oops, hehe, I forgot about that." My fifth drawer was for the bra and other items like it.

Miss Dragon was clearly waiting for more. "Anyway, it's a little bit of a shock. And Hetalia means Useless Italy. Since he's pretty, well, airheadish? Okay, and the story of how Britain and Canada got to my house. That was a mess-"

"I don't very much care about how they got there. What I care about is if you have any interest in becoming a part of this family."

This was awkward, since she seemed to be staring at me rather uncomfortably. "Oh, yeah, I guess. Everyone seems pretty cool, I wouldn't mind, if I wasn't imposing on everyone else. And how they feel has to be taken into consideration, too, since it's not all about me and stuff. You know?"

"Yes. I do. Well, that's settled then. Do you have any questions about the house or where things are?"

"Um, I probably will. Actually, where is my bathroom? I wanna know where to put my stuff." My dresser was full of bathroom items that needed to be put away.

For some reason, unknown to me, obviously, she started laughing. "You share a bathroom with England." Oh, that's why she was laughing. I can see how that would be a problem, though I'm not sure how bad Britain is when it comes to showers. And if I share a bathroom with him, that probably means that his bedroom is right next to mine.

"Then I'll just ask him to show me where it is, I'd rather not move all of my stuff in there just quite yet." I rubbed my forehead, frustrated. Most of my clothes were put away, and the ten drawer dresser was only halfway full. I could put my makeup in the other ones and hope that I could get a mirror in here later. Yeah, I think I'll do that.

"That works. You're incredibly lucky to have been placed with England. I can see that you two really like each other, though I'm confused how far that feeling goes."

"Isn't that a bit out of a dragon's priority list? Why would you be interested in dating and relationships or something?" I asked. I sorted my makeup according to what part of my face it went on, my lips, eyes, face, and so on.

"My priorities are different than another's." Feremal sassed. Wow, a dragon, being sassy. Who knew?

"Huh." I left it at that, as I placed the makeup in the smaller drawers near the top. My lipsticks on one side, eyeshadow pallets on the other, until I had filled a good four drawers. It was quick work, and not a word was said as I placed everything away and had one drawer left empty.

"You know what I'm missing? Music. And my phone has been in my pocket this entire time." I had forgotten about my phone for a bit, which isn't really like me. Anyway, I started playing Set it Off, Wolf in Sheep's Clothing. Not out loud, through my earbuds. Okay, one earbud. I still wanted to talk to Feremal.

"A wolf is sheep's clothing is more than a warning-" I danced around while trying to not tangle my earbuds.

"What is that?" Sure enough, she did ask.

"A phone. It's compacted and you can touch the screen. I wasn't kidding when I said I was born in 1998. I came from the distant year of 2016." I waved my fingers in the air. "And I am currently listening to music."

I resumed singing, "You sink your teeth into the people you depend on, infecting everyone, you're quite the problem."

"And how do you use it?"

Sometimes, it's hard to believe that they don't have the technology we have, I know, but I was expecting it. "Well, the screen is touch sensitive, and it lights up and stuff. Here, look." I took out my phone and showed her how to log into the phone, as well as how to scroll through my music library.

"Karma's gonna come collect your debt!" I drew out the notes, keeping up with the song. Feremal looked at me like I lost my mind. In response, I chuckled. "Sorry, I can't live without my music. And now, for a Hetalia song. This one is called… mm, should I play Mein Gott? Or Einsamkeit? Nah, Steady Rythmus. That's a good one…"

"You truly are young." She sighed before curling back up on my pillow, content with watching me dance as I put things in its place. She started dozing, though.

My room was clean, for the most part, as the song finished. I wanted to listen to something French, so I tapped Papaoutai.

"Dites-moi d'où il vient, Enfin je saurai où je vais, Maman dit que lorsqu'on cherche bien, On finit toujours par trouver, Elle dit qu'il n'est jamais très loin, Qu'il part très souvent travailler, Maman dit "travailler c'est bien", Bien mieux qu'être mal accompagné, Pas vrai?"

I walked out of the room, looking for Britain, so I could finally put away my bathroom stuff. Feremal watched me go tiredly, since my opening of the door stirred her awake from her snooze.

"Où est ton papa? Dis-moi où est ton papa? Sans même devoir lui parler, Il sait ce qui ne va pas. Ah sacré papa, Dis-moi où es-tu caché? Ça doit, faire au moins mille fois que j'ai, Compté mes doigts."

"Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, où t'es où, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, où t'es où, papaoutai? Où t'es. Où t'es."

"Quoi, qu'on y croit ou pas. Y aura bien un jour où on y croira plus, Un jour ou l'autre on sera tous papa. Et d'un jour à l'autre on aura disparu. Serons-nous détestables? Serons-nous admirables? Des géniteurs ou des génies? Dites-nous qui donne naissance aux irresponsables? Ah dites-nous qui, tiens, Tout le monde sait comment on fait les bébés. Mais personne sait comment on fait des papas, Monsieur Je-sais-tout en aurait hérité, c'est ça. Faut l'sucer d'son pouce ou quoi? Dites-nous où c'est caché, ça doit. Faire au moins mille fois qu'on a, bouffé nos doigts"

I was getting so into the song that I placed the other earbud in my ear, not realizing that I was singing along. "Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, où t'es où, papaoutai? Où t'es? Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es. Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es. Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es, où t'es où, papaoutai? Où t'es, Où t'es."

"Où est ton papa? Dis-moi où est ton papa? Sans même devoir lui parler. Il sait ce qui ne va pas. Ah sacré papa, Dis-moi où es-tu caché? Ça doit, faire au moins mille fois que j'ai, Compté mes doigts. Où est ton papa? Dis-moi où est ton papa? Sans même devoir lui parler, Il sait ce qui ne va pas. Ah sacré papa, Dis-moi où es-tu caché? Ça doit, faire au moins mille fois que j'ai. Compté mes doigts."

"Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es. Où t'es, papaoutai? Où t'es. Où t'es, papaoutai?" I stopped when someone tugged an earbud out of my ear, and they let it drop. When I looked up in surprise, the smirking face of Britain was the first thing I saw.

"You're correct, French doesn't sound too bad, that is to say, when you're the one singing, love."

I crossed my arms. "Now you're admitting it. Have you had a guilty conscious, Mr. Kirkland?"

He laughed. "No, I was just admitting that you can make it sound bearable."

Britain had changed from his uniform to a forest green sweater vest over a white button up shirt, and black jeans. I had to look twice at his jeans, for a second I could have sworn that they were from my era, they weren't even close to as hideous as the ones in the 40's. They were form fitting jeans that complemented him nicely.

I know, impossible to think of.

"No more uniform?"

Britain ran his hand through his now, I can tell, freshly washed hair. He smelled faintly like tea, of all things. Did this guy just give off the scent of tea all the time, or did he have a cologne or something? "I wanted to be out of that thing. I mean no disrespect to my government, but it's so full of starch it's very comparable to having pure potatoes on my collar all the time. And it's itchy."

He sounded like a complaining and whiny kid when he said it was itchy.

"Right, well, I was looking for you. What bathroom do I use, and can I please take a shower? It's been a good two or three days, maybe even more, since my hair's been washed." Britain raised one of his large bushy brows, before answering.

 **Author's note:**

 **Cliffhanger for you. Have fun.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note:**

 **This is a short chapter, and I'm sorry for the long wait. Life kinda got in the way, and to be completely truthful, I don't want to write this fanfic anymore. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of ideas for it, but somehow it just seems** _ **wrong**_ **. I'm not sure how else to describe it, almost like it's immoral for me to be messing around with canon characters and making them do my bidding? I don't like it.**

 **And I've also stopped watching Hetalia. It's one of those shows that pulls you in at certain times in your life, then lets you go to think you're free before throwing you off a cliff back into the show, violently. There's always a chance I'll get pulled back in; so we'll see what's in store for this story.**

 **If I were to stop writing this I'd start working on my own book, so I'm not quitting writing entirely.**

 **Anywho, have a wonderful day!**

"There's one in the hallway. And to think, you don't smell as bad as Wales." Britain shook his head. My earbud dangled at my side, where I let it hang until the song finished.

I grimaced. "Really? Why didn't you say anything?" If I smelled, I would have liked to have been told. And it's the 20th, I think, so that means that- "DUDE! Christmas is in five days!" I said out loud. And then it dawned on me. Christmas was in five days. That's when Hong Kong is handed to Japan because they won the battle. Britain won't be very happy on Christmas.

Once the song finished, I unplugged the earbuds and rolled them around my phone again. My phone went right back into my pocket, the earbuds with them.

"Yes, Christmas isn't that far away. I feel for the poor blokes out there. I refrained from saying something because you would have taken it offensively. About that shower, let me show you to the bathroom. You'll be sharing one with me. For all the bedrooms in this blasted house, they couldn't have had a bathroom for each one." Britain rolled his eyes, I was still excited about Christmas.

"Awesome. I have a lot of stuff that needs to be put away, too, so I hope that you have space. I'll try to only keep my essentials in there, though. And how many bedrooms does this house have? Because it's three stories; I've only been round the first. Aren't there another two stories that need to be explored? By me, of course." I rambled.

"Yes, there is another two stories. The majority of the bedrooms are here, five of them, and three on the second. The third is the attic, it's not truly another story, but we treat it as such. And there is a room upstairs that you are not to ever enter, understand?"

At his firmness, I nodded my head. I have a feeling it's his magic room. I'm going to get in there in the next two weeks or sooner, just you watch. "Sure, but can we get to the bathroom now? I'm kind of self-conscious now that you've said that I stink."

Britain chuckled. "Of course, love." He led the way, which I am immensely glad for, because those pants were doing the people behind him a favor.

As we walked down the hallway, there were five doors we passed by before Britain pushed open the door, revealing a medium sized bathroom with those metal claw tubs, a simple toilet, and a sink. The mirror was simple with a stained oak frame. The cabinets were solid wood, the same wood and stain as the mirror. The knobs on the sink were more like handles, made of polished metal.

There was a small window above the shower, but the glass was frosted and colored. It also had bars around it.

"What's with the bars?" I pointed to them to emphasize my point.

His answer was simple, and it sounded like he was still traumatized. "The bloody frog."

"Ah. Okay. Good thing precautions have been taken, then." I nodded.

There was also a small black gas boiler in the corner to heat the water, so hot water was not an issue. With gas boilers, you can stay in the shower forever, the heat never runs out, as long as there's still fuel.

"Hm." He opened the cabinets, showing me that one was entirely empty save for towels. "You can use this. But please, don't clog up the drain. You'll be the one to clean it."

"Yeah, sure." I couldn't see any of his stuff anywhere, which means that it's all put away. "Okay, cool. Um, what towels do I use?" I didn't want to leave the bathroom naked and dripping wet.

"There are towels on one of the drawers here." Britain opened it and grabbed a blue towel, handing it to me as he closed the cabinet with his other hand. "But please, we have to wash everything by hand. I would suggest that you try to keep from doing laundry as much as possible." The plea was evident in his voice.

"Yeah. I will, I know how much of a pain in the ass it is to wash things by hand." I smiled. "Okay, cool. Can I get a tour of the house later?"

Britain glanced at me. "Yes, of course. And if you'd like, I can go with you outside in our garden, as well. Scotland was proposing to take you around town, but it's not that it's something special." He sounded forlorn.

"Dude. I haven't been here before, anything is special. I mean, this bathroom is a first time for me. I'd love to see your place. And besides, if there's any trouble, I'll fight through it." I was being sincere. Everything about this place was awesome so far, besides the war. I wonder what London would have looked like before it had been bombed to smithereens. Now I wish that I hadn't slept, or rather, pretended to sleep, in the car.

"I'm sure. If I were you, I would bring clothes in the shower with me, Ireland has a nasty habit of being in the hallway at the wrong time." With that, he nodded, and Britain left and closed the door behind him, leaving me to fend for myself in an unfamiliar bathroom.

"Okay. Time to get clothes then." I said under my breath. I draped the towel over the side of the tub. My bedroom was right next to the bathroom, there was just one door in-between.

When I walked in my room, Feremal was still asleep. I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty honored that she didn't move back into Wales' room. I tried to be quiet as I grabbed as many products as I could carry into the bathroom at once without dropping anything. I was able to grab everything except for five or so products. I took them back to the bathroom, laying them all on the sink counter as I arranged them under the sink.

Once that was finished, I went back into the room to get my brushes and the last few bottles of shampoo, hair spray, and what looked like banana scented body wash. I think I bought it because of that one Doctor Who episode where the 10th Doctor won't shut up about bananas. It smelled amazing.

I placed my brush on the counter so I would be able to brush my hair once I got out of the shower.

Now that everything was put away, I went back to get clothes. Luckily most of my clothing was clean, I had done laundry the day before the whole ordeal of Britain and Canada at my house had happened. I was good for another week and a half before I had to wash anything.

Going based off of the fact that because it was cold outside, it was still chilly inside, I grabbed flannel pajama pants that were super warm and fuzzy and a long sleeve shirt. Over the shirt I'll put on a black hoodie. I also grabbed fuzzy socks, and the essential bra and underwear.

Armed with my clothing, I stealthily made my way to the shower, trying not to rouse Feremal. I made it, and closing the door behind me, I closed the small latch that kept the door closed. There were no locks in the door knobs, it was a small pin that locked in itself on the side of the wall. It looked pretty sturdy, I have a feeling that it was installed to keep France out.

The water thing was simple, it looked just like a faucet. I turned it on and pulled the bottom of the faucet to turn on the shower. The curtain had already been pulled around the entire thing. It was a really large curtain, it circled around the tub.

As I waited for the water to heat up, which would take less than a minute, I grabbed my banana shampoo and a random body wash. The bottles went on the side of the tub where there was a small flat area. My hand went through the water accidentally and the temperature was perfect, so I stepped in after taking off my clothes and just stood there for a few moments.

The past few days have been hectic and my body and emotions are shutting down. I'm just sort of ignoring everything. I miss my parents to the point that my chest hurts. And speaking about pain, my burns haven't been hurting badly. They had faded to a dull ache, I had almost forgotten about them. I sort of stared at my thighs, where a good sized one was.

Maybe I shouldn't have defended Russia. But what would have happened had I said that it was because he was trying to take me over and destroy me? I mean, inadvertently destroy me. He was trying to be good, but everything was backfiring on him. Would the war have taken an entirely different route, with the USSR no longer as an Ally or an Axis not-really-there-but-sorta? Would he have never changed sides, or would he have still left, but made a living hell out of everyone's lives?

With the flurry of events I had been thrown into, I haven't eaten since the hospital, a good day or two ago. My stomach rumbled at the thought. How had I even forgotten to eat? Oh yeah, I was too disgusted by the current happenings to want to eat. And the pain around random parts of my body didn't help either.

In the car, Britain was talking with Scotland about how he didn't trust me. I don't blame him. As I contemplated, I washed my hair, putting a good bit of shampoo in it to wash out all of the dirt and oil. The smell of bananas was overpowering as it was in my hair, but once my hair dries, it will smell just fine.

The water ran an off white when I rinsed the shampoo out. Now that I was satisfied with my clean hair, which was really long, annoyingly long at this point, I moved on to wash my body.

The body wash was light and floral, it smelled like the regular Dove soap bars. My muscles hurt. The soap turned from a light pink to a light grayish version of pink. I wrinkled my nose; I must have been really dirty. I hurried up and shaved my legs and armpits, taking another ten or so minutes since I didn't want to rush and cut myself on accident.

After I was done, I did one more quick rinse to make sure all of the soap was rinsed off. I turned off the water, wrung out my hair, and reached for the towel, which was still draped across the side of the tub. The shower curtain had gone over it, keeping it dry.

The towel wasn't fluffy, but it was soft. The dark cerulean color was almost the same as the blue on the Union Jack, which was probably why it was in the house. I dried off as best as I could before getting dressed in my pajamas and hoodie. I brushed my hair a few times through to make sure that it was tangle free before it dried and it was impossible to get the tangles out.

My hair was still dripping wet, so I just wrapped my hair in the towel, twisting it so that it lay on my head without moving. It should dry slightly wavy when I take it out of the towel. When I looked in the mirror, it looked like I had cupcake frosting on my head.

Content with how I looked, I started cleaning up after myself. My dirty clothes were thrown into a pile that I could pick up as I left the bathroom. I made sure to hide my undergarments in my pants and shirt. I shook off the shampoo and body wash bottles, drying them as much as possible before putting them back under the sink. My hairbrush went on top of the pile of clothes, so I could have it tomorrow morning in case Britain was in the bathroom.

After everything was done, I unlocked the door and walked to my room, where the door was slightly ajar, just the way I had left it. Feremal was still snoozing on my bed, everything was still put away. I threw my clothes in a pile in the corner of the room, since I didn't have a laundry basket.

And speaking of clothes, I forgot to put on the socks. I sat on the corner of the bed and slipped them on. The soft fuzziness was better than having bare feet against the cold floor.

"You look much better now." A breathy voice commented. Feremal raised her snout a tiny bit to get a better view of me. "You look much more comfortable."

"Oh, mulţumesc!" I smiled at her. I was happy to feel clean again. "Do you think that there's food?"

"I'm sure, but I wouldn't eat it if it was England cooking. And I would take off that ridiculous thing you have on your head." She shuddered.

"Okay, the towel is not going off, and I want to try Britain's cooking. Are you gonna come, or do you want to keep sleeping?" I raised my eyebrow. I wonder how bad his cooking is. I know that Hima said that Britain can bake certain items, though most things are ridiculously impossible. I know that he caught cereal on fire, too.

Feremal yawned. "I'm going to stay in Wales' room. That way you won't be bothered."

"Dude, I'm not bothered. I'm just hungry."

She stretched on the bed in response. "Yes, but nonetheless, I would rather not bother you. And please don't refer to me as 'dude'." She hopped down off of my bed with a small bounce and walked out of the room, I'm assuming to Wales.

"Um, okay?" I rubbed my forehead. That was awkward and a tiny bit weird.

My stomach was hurting, reminding me again that I had not eaten in quite a bit. I got up and went to the kitchen, taking time to look through the hallway again and noticing all of the doors. Britain's was indeed next to mine, the bathroom next to his room. The door was open a tiny bit, just enough for me to peek inside as I passed.

His room was sparsely furnished, with a twin bed and a dresser on the opposite wall. The window was large, with a bench under it, built into the house. There was a book lying on the cushions, it looked like 'Of Mice and Men'. There was a painting on the wall of Big Ben, next to it was a small United Kingdom flag. It complimented the cream paint nicely.

Something smelled like it was burning. It brought my attention back to the fact that Britain really probably couldn't cook. As I made my way to the kitchen, I heard bickering.

"You burnt the chips!"

"Ya' left 'em on too long!"

"I was in charge of the fish, you bloody-" Britain was in the middle of his sentence as I made my way into the kitchen. It was smoking, and Wales was opening the window as Ireland and Britain stared at me.

"Oh, right. So you're finished with your shower, then, love?" He was trying to be nice, but he eyed the towel on my head with intrigue. I nodded in response, overwhelmed with the mess in front of me.

Ireland said what Britain didn't want to say. "Wot the 'ell is that on yur head?"

Britain smacked him upside the head with a spatula. "OW!" Ireland rubbed his injury.

"It's a towel. I just wrapped it around my hair. Have you guys never actually seen this before?"

Wales shook his head. "Nah, we're men that aren't really exposed to women all that much. Arthur 'ere is still single." He motioned to Britain with his thumb.

Britain blushed, flustered. "I'll tell you, you bloody wanker, if I never had a girlfriend, then why is it that I've had more experience with women than you'll ever have?"

"Does it really matter? Not being in a relationship is nothing to be ashamed of, honestly. Plus I would think that you'd've had plenty of experience with girls, considering you sailed the seven seas." I sniffed, my nose was sort of congested. "Um, isn't it like, kinda frowned upon around here if you are? And anyway, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten in like, two or more days."

"Sure, there's already food on de table." Ireland said.

"Thanks." I sat down at the small table. There were five chairs crammed in an obviously made for four table. There were two small platters, one with French fries, and the other with fried fish. There was a small stack of white plates with flowers around the edge in the middle of the table, too.

"Looks great." The fish were slightly overcooked on one end, and the French fries were more accurately French fires, but nonetheless, I was hungry. I took a fish and at least twenty fries, before realizing that I didn't have a fork.

"Uh, sorry guys, but where are the forks?" I asked. Britain face palmed and wordlessly opened a drawer, taking out a fork, and handing it to me. "Thanks, buddy." I stabbed the fish and took a big bite out of it. As I chewed, I grabbed the fries with my fingers.

"I don't think that I've ever seen England be so quiet." Wales joked.

"I'm not quiet, I'm simply watching what I say. Which is something that you wouldn't understand, twit."

Ireland grinned. "Nah, yur bein' quiet."

"Cole, have manners. You eat chips with forks. It's unladylike. And take your elbows off of the table." Britain scolded.

Oh, so he was going to play that game? Because his brothers were getting on his nerves he was going to try to get on mine, eh?

Nuh uh. I don't want to play, but I will make it interesting. I deliberately grabbed three fries at once, and stuffed them in my mouth. I chewed with my mouth closed, though, I gag when someone chews with their mouth open, it's gross. I placed both of my elbows on the table, and stared Britain in the eyes.

After I swallowed, I grabbed some more fries, and to piss him off, said, "You know, I really love French fries. They're great. So, mm, French, you know? Well, Belgium actually invented them, so I wonder how they got the name. Maybe it was part of France's… magic?"

Ireland snickered. Wales tried to melt into the background, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye, he was doubling over in silent laughter. I decided to take it a step farther and sit cross legged in the chair. All the while, I kept my eye contact with Britain.

You could see the frustration in his eyes. His face was turning red, too. "It's unladylike." He insisted, then. I'll show him what's unladylike.

"Britain, did you know that I once won a burping competition with Kat? I think it was something like this." I swallowed air discreetly, and then pushing it back up, let out the biggest burp I possibly could. It was still tiny compared to some of my other ones, but big enough to disgust him.

"Oh, nevermind, that one was really small. I'm sure I can get a bigger one later, just wait a bit."

"I get the point!" He exclaimed, exasperated.

Did he really? "Then don't be an ass because you and your brothers don't get along. And really, I don't need lessons on what's ladylike or not, because I truly don't give a fuck." I turned my head back to my food and uncrossed my legs, happily eating my fish with my fork as Britain fumed.

"I can definitely tell that you're American."

Wales took in a small breath, expecting a burning retort from me. I won't disappoint.

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of me eating. And your ego, of course."

"I said that you're a lovely person and I would very much enjoy to show you the library once we've all eaten." He replied, bitter.

"Hey, don't be a lemon. Be a salt deposit, it suits your personality better. And I'd love to see the library, thanks." I winked. None of them would get any of what I just said, but that's okay.

"Of course, love." Britain went back to cooking the fish and chips, but a few seconds later, he screamed out, "Allistor! Get your lazy arse over here, the food is done!" I dropped my fork in surprise. Why did he have to scream like that?

He knew he scared me, too, because I saw that grin spread across his face. I'll get him back for that.

The food was actually not that bad, and before long I had eaten everything on my plate. I guess Britain's not as bad at cooking as people say he is, but he's not great, either. I got up and took my plate and forks in the sink, rinsing them out and letting them lay there. There wasn't a sponge for me to clean them with, so I guess I just won't do them.

Scotland walked in the room, Feremal flying close behind him. He didn't take any notice of her as she flew to Wales, resting on his shoulder. He sat down at the table, picked up a plate, and started filling it up with food. Wales and Ireland followed suit, leaving Britain to cook by himself, no one watching the fries anymore.

Britain looked overwhelmed. "Wankers! Why won't you finish what you started and help me make this blasted food?"

"Hey, I'll help. I'm not that bad at making fries." I made my way through the maze of chairs to the frying potatoes. Britain barely glanced at me as I flipped them, so that they fried evenly.

"You're supposed to leave them until they finish frying. Turning them will make them fall apart." He called over his shoulder.

"No, actually, they're supposed to be flipped around. They're not hash browns."

"Hmph." Britain grumbled.

"Grumpy pants." I mumbled under my breath.

"Cole, you tell 'em!" Ireland shouted, giggling. Why the hell was he giggling? It's really not that funny.

"Ire, sit down, mate." Scotland spoke between mouthfuls of food.

"Can't you all sit down?" Britain shot back. He wrinkled his nose and huffed. "Stop being so immature. This isn't 1645 anymore."

"It's not 1645 anymore. Not 'This isn't'. That's grammatically incorrect. I would think that you of all people would know that." Boom, there we go. Britain tried to cover his embarrassment by rolling his eyes. I smirked.


End file.
